


meet me in the sunflower field

by thingshlcant



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Farm/Ranch, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Come Eating, Daddy Kink, Dusty and Clifford have their own lil relationship, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Harry desperately wants a baby, Harry pov, Harry wants to find out who the culprit is, Louis POV, Louis and Dusty don't get along especially at night, Louis steals Harry's food secretly, Louis wears chaps, M/M, Male Lactation, Mpreg Harry, Nipple Play, Overstimulation, Pain Kink, Praise Kink, Riding, Rimming, Spanking, except for Harry, it's pretty low-key, oh and, side Ziam, the boys are all ranch hands, the kinks are not intense as they sound, there's a sunflower field
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-09
Updated: 2019-01-31
Packaged: 2019-03-15 18:43:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 68,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13619397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thingshlcant/pseuds/thingshlcant
Summary: Harry takes over the family cattle ranch only to be burdened by the mystery of who out of the four ranch hands keeps stealing his bloody leftovers. As if that isn't bad enough his heart also goes into cardiac arrest every time the feisty ranch hand with the blue eyes and amazing arse so much as glances at him.Louis comes back to work knowing he'll be under new management. He didn't know that meant there'd be mouthwatering leftovers filling up the fridge every night, just taunting him from their plastic containers. He tries to make up for his midnight crimes by bringing flowers back to his very soft, very un-boss like boss. All anonymously, of course.Chaos, romance, and a baby ensues.





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first ever Larry fanfic and second ever fanfic in general. I wouldn't have been able to do any of this or have any motivation to write this if it wasn't for the amazing brainstorming and conversations and prompts from my friend on Instagram. This fic belongs to and is dedicated to her. It's a joint effort.
> 
> I'm going to try my best and line up the language with British English but I'll probably make some mistakes. I'd appreciate any and all criticism. If there's any tags I need to add still let me know. 
> 
> Title is from Harry Styles' Meet Me In The Hallway mixed with a certain fictional flower field that becomes very important.
> 
> Happy reading!
> 
> Come hit me up on tumblr at andtheywerebandmates

The sweet smell of grass and hay filled the taxi that traveled down the backroads past all the farmland Harry had gazed at through the window when he was just a small lad. Now, at 21, Harry gazed with wonder at how little had changed since he left his home to go to university three years ago. He rolled his window down further, sticking his head out like the free bird he felt, though he was sure he looked more like a labrador than anything.

Pure--that was the word that came to mind when the warm spring air filled his flared nostrils, untainted by city air pollution and noise. Harry’s green eyes seemed to light up to match the vibrant color of the fields that stretched out on either side of the road. He let out a loud laugh, feeling the relief of being finished with tests and exams and lectures, free from early morning panic and late night headaches.

Gone were the days of grumbling over tea stained jumpers due to ramming into other students on his way to lectures since he never seemed to get a handle on his own two feet. Gone were the days of screeching city noises that no matter how hard he tried to love would always be labeled as unsettling in his mind, abusing his ear drums even late at night when all he wanted was just a few hours of uninterrupted sleep.

Those days were over, and Harry didn’t even try to hide his huge smile as he took off his headscarf, letting his wild curls be caressed by the wind. Closing his eyes, he felt in the air, alongside the peace that always resided in these hills, the promise of something larger than life awaiting him at home. The promise of something good.

Ducking his head back in, Harry secured his headscarf back over his locks, wanting to look presentable in front of the taxi driver, because after all, that was the polite thing to do and he’d  been raised to always be courteous.

“You quite excited?”

Harry turned, eyes sparkling, nodding his head at the respectful, middle-aged man that glanced at him briefly. “Did my loud laughter give that away by any chance?”

“It might’ve given me a hint,” the man laughed.

Harry chuckled along with him, fixing his silk blouse, one he was wearing because tonight, he’d be seeing his parents for the first time in months and he wanted to look his best.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dinner with Harry’s parents was delightful, Harry soaking up the undivided attention and love his mum and dad gave him, filling his empty stomach with loads of homemade food to the point where his stomach swelled out a bit. A “food baby” as Harry liked to call it, much to the amusement of his parents. Harry had called it that since he was 18 and no one had ever teased him about it, not even his friends, only laughed good heartedly with him when he said it. Unfortunately, he learned the hard way that men in uni didn’t find that endearing or acceptable. They found it “too feminine” or “gay”, though Harry found it ridiculous that people still spit out those words like there was something actually wrong with them. Harry made sure to avoid blokes like that, which meant avoiding more than half the population in his uni. He was glad he could freely rub his protruding tummy lovingly now, in the safety of his home, with his mother and father looking on fondly, simply enjoying his company.

After lots of food and drink, Harry was rosy-cheeked and sleepy from his long car ride back home and the silence that blanketed the countryside was a lullaby in and of itself so he found himself fighting sleep as he sat in the big, fluffy arm chair he’d missed so dearly, the hum of the movie him and his parents were watching lulling him to sleep as well.

“Harry, love, why don’t you head to your room? Or would you rather sleep here on the sofa?” Anne asked, gently brushing the chocolate curls off his forehead that strayed from behind his brilliant green headscarf.

Opening his eyes lazily, he squinted up at Anne, making grabby hands at her. He heard Robin laugh softly from his place on the sofa, where him and Anne had been cuddling before Anne had gotten up to speak to Harry. Anne chuckled, and leaned down to be engulfed in one of Harry’s big teddy bear hugs.

Harry swallowed the spit that had collected in his mouth that, had he fallen asleep, would be producing a wet patch on the arm chair after dribbling out of the corner of his mouth and down his chin. He was kind of gross in that way, when he slept.

“Just wanna sleep here with you and dad. M’room sounds too lonely,” he slurred, eyes squinting up at Anne from his reclined state in the too-soft-but-just-how-harry-likes-it recliner.

“S’alright, love. You stay here, then. Your dad and I won’t be going anywhere ‘til morning.”

Harry felt a smile grace his lips automatically at hearing his mum’s reassurances, her soft voice, warm presence, the knowledge that Robin was looking at them both from several feet away, warm eyes always so loving, finally dragging Harry under into dreamland.

——————————————————

Sunlight spilling into the sitting room and onto Harry’s slumped, sleeping form is what woke him. He opened his eyes, slow as syrup, lips lifting at the corners in a soft smile as he realized he was home and was miles and miles away from the chaos of university life. He savored the silence, the only sound being the steady ticking of the big grandfather clock in the corner of the sitting room.

Melting on the inside, he realized his mum must’ve covered him during the night and propped his head upon a pillow. He’d missed being cared for like that. He snuggled further into the recliner, rubbing his porcelain face on the crisp, cotton pillowcase. His eyes were shut in complete contentment for about ten seconds before he realized his parents were still asleep and there was no more perfect opportunity than now to make them some brekkie.

Harry turned into a blur of long limbs flinging out in all directions in an attempt to escape the clutches of the light blanket he’d previously been happily wrapped up in. He emerged from the battle with no wounds, only a bedhead with curls so wild and piled high on his head bees would mistake it for a hive. Huffing in indignation after his rather embarrassing show of clumsiness, cheeks rosy from the exertion, Harry stumbled into the quaint kitchen on his unsteady Bambi legs.

Pancakes. That’s what he’d make. Pancakes with a side of eggs. Better yet pancakes with a side of eggs and bacon. Or, even better, pancakes with a side of eggs and bacon and ham. And of course, _tea_. Harry dove into action. His mind working faster than his body, causing a few spills here and there and a large dusting of flour on Harry’s sleep rumpled, wonderful silk shirt. He was a baker at heart but he never claimed to be a graceful one, nor a tidy one at that. When he was in full swing of the preparations of the plates, artfully placing each food item on the dishes, Robin entered the kitchen. Still hazy from sleep, he scratched his belly, squinting against the bright morning sunlight filtering through the window, then frowned even more at the sight of Harry barreling toward him faster than either of them could control right now. Harry squeaked, catching himself on the fridge handle, frantically trying to block Robin from seeing the surprise breakfast he’d slaved over.

“Harry, wha--”

“No questions! Back to your room! Quick, quick,” Harry yelped, shoving and pushing his dad back through the hall towards his parents’ bedroom. Gently, of course.

Robin looked back at him, puzzled, trying to get a question in but Harry kept shushing him.

“It’s a _surprise_ , dad! Is mum awake?

“Yes, we both just woke up a couple minutes ago.”

Harry clapped his hands together, bouncing on his toes.

 _Perfect,_ he thought.

Before Robin could ask anymore questions, Harry was shoving him inside the bedroom and scurrying off to get the delicately decorated dishes he’d prepared.

Both Anne and Robin were extremely pleased when Harry brought the steaming hot food into their bedroom, bringing their tea in straight after. His cheeks became rosy pink with the praise, hugs and kisses he received from both his parents and he practically glowed whenever another compliment would spill from their mouth about how heavenly the food tasted.

Once Harry had taken the dishes from the bedroom and finished washing them, he returned to talk about the arrangements he’d be left with once both his parents left and returned to their own home an hour away.

“So, Harry,” Anne started, clasping her hands.

“Mum?” Harry grinned, giddy with the knowledge he’d soon be in charge of the cattle ranch that his mum had poured her heart and soul into.

“The boys will be coming back this afternoon since all of them were staying either with family or at a hotel so that we could have our day together. Louis will be coming back a little later than the rest of the boys,” Anne explained.

“Why’s that?” Harry inquired, curiosity shining in his green eyes.

He’d never met any of the ranch hands that his parents had hired after he’d gone to uni, “the boys”, as his mum had just called them, were complete strangers to him--faceless names.

“He had to go home and that’s a lot farther than the rest of the boys had to travel. Anyway, he shouldn’t bother you. They all have their rooms at the end of the house, and they all know you’ll be staying here in the master bedroom,” Anne replied.

“Oh, alright,” Harry hummed.

He was curious to say the least. His body was buzzing with the electricity that came with being giddy over meeting new people, potentially what could be new friends. After the snooty, unwelcome air of his university, he felt he could finally breathe being back home in familiar surroundings where he knew, for the most part, people were humble and kind, all coming from families that worked hard for their keep.

Harry was sure it’d be no different with these boys. At least, he hoped. And when Harry hoped, he did it with his whole being.

The day carried on, Harry getting accustomed to the computer his parents kept in a little office space just off from the lounge. His mum and dad took turns showing him the different files and where they belonged. For some this work might be tedious, but Harry found his peace in finding how to organize everything. This would be his own space in just a few hours, including the land that stretched out before him that he could see through the window to the side of his desk. He took a stroll through the horse barn a couple hours later, petting the soft pinkish nose of the gray gelding he always loved to ride when he was little. He’d christened him White Eskimo when his parents bought him when he was ten and rode him in the local show jumping competitions.

He’d always preferred the english saddle and style of riding over western. When he’d told this to the previous ranch hands that worked there years ago they’d teased him about becoming too posh for the rough and rugged way of life that any cattle ranch hand carried out.

“I’m so glad to be back, lovely. I’ve missed our daily therapy sessions,” Harry chuckled.

Contentment washed over him when he felt the velvety soft texture of Eskimo’s muzzle mouthing at his elbow that was crooked so Harry could hold the gentle giant’s face.

When he was walking back to the house he recognized one of the cow’s faces. One might think it’d be weird to recognize a cow’s face, but this cow was special. She had a certain grumpy frown eternally etched into her expression, but the gentleness in her eyes melted away anyone’s assumptions that she was of a rude disposition. She was sassy was what she was and Harry loved her with all his heart, despite the countless times she’d pushed him into mud, the ground, the fence, or another cow. Harry had a sneaking suspicion she’d watched how clumsily he carried himself and had plotted to shove him, face first, into whatever nearby surfaces there were. He swore up and down that after every time he fell he saw her brown cow eyes laughing at him. Of course, he’d laugh along with her, because it was a lot easier to cope with the unco-ordination he possessed that way instead of being mad about it. Skipping towards her, and therefore forgetting the ground was uneven, Harry managed to catch himself at the last second thanks to the fence, instead of becoming reacquainted with the dust he’d gotten to know too well over the years.

When Harry looked up, letting out a squawk of laughter, he swore he could practically see the exasperated expression on Queen’s face.

“I haven’t changed, my dear Queen Freddie Stevie Mercury Wonder,” Harry giggled, pulling the cow’s large face into his torso to give her a hug over the fence.

He’d been only twelve when she’d been born on the ranch and Anne had told Harry he could name her anything he wanted, much to Harry’s older sister’s chagrin. She’d already had that privilege before, though, so it was only fair. He smiled when he recalled how Gemma had stomped out of the birthing stall muttering how ridiculous Harry’s name was. Nothing could get Harry down that night though. It was his first time seeing a calf being born, and he remembers falling asleep on a bale of hay, not wanting to leave the wonder of a newborn calf for the comfort of his own bed. Until his mum woke him and he stumbled back into the house.

Giving Queen one last peck on her long face, he scurried to the house, eager to start on the lunch he was going to make for the ranch hands to enjoy when they arrived.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Harry had never felt more fulfilled and proud of himself than he did now, staring at the array of food he’d made and laid out on the dining table. He’d even gone out and picked some of the large dandelions he’d found nearby the pastures. They were bright and cheery, lighting up the dining room from their place in the center of the table that was covered in a crisp, baby blue table cloth.

An hour before, Harry had said goodbye to his parents, told him he’d see them soon since they lived closer now and promised them he’d take exceptional care of the ranch. They all cried, just a little bit, Anne and Harry more so than Robin. He’d waved them off, noticing Queen was watching from the pasture.

And then Harry had started on his feast preparations.

Just as Harry had finished drying off his hands after having a wee and pulling off his apron that said “kiss the cook” with black and white polka dots, he heard the front screen door open and slam shut and the clatter of boots against wood as well as what he guessed was baggage being banged around.

“Ohh, me arse is killin’ me!”

“ _Your_ arse is killing you? Niall, I drove the whole way while you were sleeping off your bloody hangover in the backseat, you weren’t even sitting on your arse!”

“Well, you didn’t have a fucking seat belt clicky thingy sticking up your arsehole like you’re getting anal from it, like _I_ did.”

“You mean the buckle?”

“How do you know what the hell it’s called, _Lee-yum_?”

“How do you know what the hell anal penetration feels like?”

“For fuck’s sake, don’t use the word penetration!”

“Don’t avoid the question!”

Harry was blushing from the tips of his ears to his chest as he hastily strode from the loo to the front door, not wanting to hear anymore from the two men he’d be having to oversee without a proper hello first. From the sound of it, they probably didn’t even know he was here.

“Hiii,” He waved, timidly, still walking towards them.

They both looked away from each other, their arms crossed and stances defensive, faces dropping into shocked expressions.

The lad with blonde highlights turned his hand toward Harry, face breaking into a huge smile.

“Ya must be Harry! Sorry, we got a little, erm, side-tracked. I think we both sort of forgot you would be here,” the lad said, still shaking Harry’s hand energetically.

The solid bloke standing next to the blonde one elbowed him in the ribs.

“Ow! What’d you do that for?”

“What Niall is trying to say is that it’s been a hell of a long drive back here from our homes and we’re both tired and hungry and a little grumpy from the trip. We knew you’d be here. I’m excited to see you in person, Harry. Name’s Liam.”

Harry frowned. “In person?”

“Well, erm, your parents are pretty proud of you so we’ve seen some pictures and there’s the pictures around the house of you as a child,” Liam said.

“Oh! Of course!”

“Not trying to be rude but do I smell chicken?” Niall interrupted, trying to peak around Harry into the kitchen.

Harry’s face lit up. This was when he got to wow the men with his culinary skills. “You do! I made a whole feast. There’s cobb salad wrap, deviled eggs, cucumber finger sandwiches, and broccoli soup. Oh, and tea, obviously,” he grinned, eating up how they both looked at Harry like he hung the moon.

One minute Harry was standing a respectable distance from the two ranch hands and the next, he’d been yanked into the solid, albeit a little sweaty, warmth of Niall’s torso.

“Oh, Harry, I love you already,” Niall shouted directly into his ear, making Harry cringe.

He pressed a sloppy, wet kiss on Harry’s neck and flew towards the back of the house where all the men’s rooms were, baggage banging chaotically on the furniture and floor he ran past.

Liam blinked at Harry, and he could tell he was trying to hold in his laughter by the way his puppy dog brown eyes were crinkling at the corners.

“You’ll, um,” he coughed, only Harry knew he was trying to cover up a laugh. “You’ll get use to him.”

Harry recovered, smoothed his shirt, and readjusted his headscarf. He tried to subtly wipe off the spit Niall had left, but judging by the way Liam’s body shook gently, he knew it was obvious.

“S’alright, just didn’t know ranch hands were so--affectionate,” Harry mumbled, offering Liam a shy smile. “Anyway, I’ll get out of your way.”

“You’re not in my way, mate,” Liam replied, sweetly smiling at Harry.

Harry relaxed a bit. He followed Liam wordlessly down the hall, before he remembered to ask him something.

“Liam, I know, Louis, I believe his name was, is going to be coming here later tonight, but what about, ah, fuck, I forgot his name. Um, Z something?”

Liam kept walking so Harry took the cue to follow. “Oh, don’t worry he should be here in a few minutes. He’s normally late to things so this isn’t unusual,” Liam answered, offering Harry another sweet smile as he pulled his baggage behind him.

Harry really liked Liam. He was nice. He liked Niall, too. Maybe he could become cuddle buddies with him when they had movie nights. Wait, did they have movie nights? He would have to make it a weekend thing, if they didn’t. Being at university was a dark time in Harry’s life in the sense that he had movie night but no cuddle buddy and that was the prime time to get his cuddle gauge filled up. He thought he was going to die in that dark and dismal time. All alone.

“Is anybody home?”

Harry was snapped out of his thoughts by a soft voice coming from the front door.

“Zayn, we’re here in my bedroom!” Liam called.

Harry was surprised to see a giant smile break out onto his face, his sweet eyes lighting up.

Interesting.

“I’ll go welcome him,” Harry said, simply.

Only, right as he scurried out of the doorway, his socks slipped on the damn wooden floors, and he let out a squawk as he prepared for the hard floor to meet his face. Except, large hands caught his arms and Harry’s face contorted in confusion as he was lifted to his pigeon toed feet.

“Woah, go slow, bro,” Zayn murmured, patting Harry on the shoulders.

Harry had to blink a few times to make sure he didn’t actually split his head open and go to heaven, because he was sure this is what angels really looked like.

“Y-yeah, um, thanks, ‘m so sorry, ‘m a huge klutz, that was really stupid,” Harry stuttered, cringing at himself.

“It’s no worries. I’m Zayn.”

“Harry. Nice to meet you and thanks for saving my arse.”

“Don’t mention it, boss,” Zayn winked and walked into his room with all the grace of a greek god.

Harry sighed.

“He tends to have that effect on people,” a voice came from next to him.

He jumped slightly, turning to see Liam smirking at him.

“I just think, that like, if I could possess just half of the gracefulness he does, I could do so much better in life,” Harry explained.

“Oh, sure, yeah,” Liam nodded, smirk still in place, as he walked to the dining room.

Harry frowned. Shaking away his confusion, he knocked on Niall’s door and Zayn’s, yelling that it was dinnertime. Minutes later, the lads were all seated round the table, chattering, thanking Harry countless times as they dug into the meal spread out before them.

Harry clanked his fork against his tea cup, getting everyone’s attention. “I’d just like to say that I think of all of us as equals and I hope you know that I will do anything to make your lives the best they can be while you work here. I haven’t been here in years, as you all know, so I may have questions every now and again, but I’ll try my best to stay out of your way and let you do your jobs in peace.”

“Just like his mum,” Niall smiled and shook his head

“Mate, I already told you, you’re not bothering anyone. I appreciate you thinking of us as equals, especially since that’s how your mum ran everything around here. But we have respect for you and your parents, of course, and we’ll do everything to work hard and get the job done,” Liam reassured him.

Harry blushed a deep red.

“A toast to new ownership and mutual respect!” Zayn cried, raising his teacup.

“Hear, hear!” Niall giggled.

They all burst into laughter as they bumped their cups together, Harry thinking that his life couldn’t get any better.


	2. Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this took so long to upload. I was sick for awhile and am still recovering, which affected my ability to write (thanks, headaches) so that's why this is so late in being posted. I will try to post every Friday. Also, I want to write longer chapters, but I'm just getting the story started so everything may seem a bit choppy for now in how I write it. I forgot to mention earlier that I will be alternating between Harry's and Louis' perspectives as a large part of the story relies heavily on Louis' antics that Harry knows nothing about (for awhile at least). 
> 
> Anyway, enjoy the story (if possible lmao). Any comments/criticisms are welcomed and appreciated. 
> 
> P.S. This story is only edited by me so there's probably a shit ton of unnecessary commas and run on sentences, but I try my best.

Harry jolted up in bed, heartbeat pounding in his chest at the sound of a bang and then a whispered curse. It came from right outside his bedroom door. Disoriented, Harry had to think back to the events that led him to where he was now, shirtless and only wearing his pants, blankets kicked off his half-naked body in his sleep. Then it all came back to him, the fact he’d come to take over the cattle ranch and had met all the ranch hands. His body slumped in relief when his sleep muddled mind remembered that his mum had told him one of the hands would be coming home late. That must’ve been him, then, Harry guessed.

Harry got up slowly, a loud yowl coming from the left side of the bed where Dusty was curled up. She looked upset at the fact that she’d been jostled awake. Harry threw her an apologetic look.

“‘ve got to say hello, girl. It’s the proper thing to do, don’t ya think?” Harry whispered, wanting to welcome the hand, even if it was already dark out and Harry had been passed out for at least two hours now. He’d be rude if he didn’t.

As he was ruffling his curls, trying to make them a bit more presentable, but in reality only managing to make them look even more crazed, he heard the distinct clicking of what could only be an animal’s claws on the hardwood floor of the hallway. Harry scrunched his face up, not remembering there being a mention of an animal coming, too. The more the merrier, though, Harry thought as he walked unsteadily to open his bedroom door.

“Would you sit down? Gonna wake up the whole bloody countryside with all your frantic sniffing,” Harry heard a voice scolding in as quiet a voice as possible.

He walked slowly toward the kitchen where he’d heard the voice coming from and almost laughed when he saw in the moonlight flooding through the windows, a dog cross from the living room to the kitchen, his tail whacking loudly against the furniture as he went.

“Christ, would you calm down?” the voice sighed, but Harry heard a chuckle in it.

The thing is, Harry should’ve taken more time to wake up, he really should have. Because he was not, in the least bit, prepared for the sight that his eyes were met with and his knees wobbled a bit with the shock his senses were thrown into.

Crouching in front of the fridge was quite possibly the most _beautiful_ \--no, _stunning_ \--no, _radiant_ \--man he’d ever seen. Harry stood shell shocked, breath stuttering to a halt, green eyes dilating to take in how the moon danced over the good side of this exotic creature that he wasn’t sure how he’d gotten the privilege of even being in the same room of. He _was_ sure, though, that any and all sides of this man were immaculate.

The spell-binding moment was ruined when the dog noticed Harry’s leering and jumped onto him from the side. Jerked from his reverie, Harry let out a yelp, and stumbled on his own foot, effectively slamming into the doorway of the kitchen and one of the closed cabinets by the fridge.

“Oops!”

Blue met green and Harry felt like someone had lit an all-consuming fire deep in his soul, could feel the flames spreading from his core to the extremities of his being. And, really, he had no clue what to do with it. He knew to stop, drop, and roll in the case of fire getting _on_ him. But what in the hell does one do if the fire is _in_ them? He could feel himself flushing from the tips of his ears to the middle of his naked, heaving chest.

The fridge door had been closed in the process of Harry’s great show of gracefulness, and the man had turned to face Harry, body awash in moonbeams, eyes wide, taking in all of Harry.

 _All_ _._ Of. Harry.

All messy hair and cherry red bare skin and four nipples and tiny pants and--oh my god-- _shaved legs,_ Harry thought, toes pointing inward in panic.

If Harry wasn’t so entranced by the stormy blue color of this man’s eyes he would’ve had half a mind to tell him off for staring so blatantly when he was so inappropriately dressed. But, just as Harry’s luck would have it, his mind had fucked off to god knows where, leaving his empty head to fill with thoughts that really, _really_ shouldn’t be running through his head. Thoughts that were downright disrespectful. _Naughty_ . See, Harry did everything in his power to always be a good boy, goddammit. And here, this _man_ , dared to stand in front of him with his slight dusting of _facial hair_ adorning that _sharp jaw_ and with his _skin glistening_ just slightly with _sweat_ as the summer night had not cooled down. Dared to open those _red, slightly chapped lips_ of his to let out a simple, “Hi”, that turned Harry’s simple little world right upside down.  

The _audacity, really_ , Harry thought.

“What?” Louis asked.

_Shit, did he say what he just thought out loud?_

“Wha--?” Harry asked, looking up from the man’s lips--no, _Louis_ ’ lips to catch his eye again.

Suddenly, Harry’s mind was just a continuous stream of _Louis, Louis, Louis, Louis, Louis,_ because he remembered his name and now that was all that the little sanity he had left could focus on. And, fuck, this introduction would go down in history as Harry’s worst, despite the time, years ago, when he’d tried swinging onto White Eskimo from the ground so he could trot up to greet the popular boy who’d agreed to come to Harry’s house to work on a school project. It resulted in his trousers suffering a huge tear that was nowhere near as big as the gash that his ego endured as he heard the boy’s burst of laughter from behind him.

“You mumbled something?” Louis rasped.

Harry’s stomach turned itself inside out at the sound. “Mm, no, no, I, um, I was just--” Harry cut himself off to thrust his hand forward. “‘M Harry,” He flashed a bashful smile, hoping that maybe, somehow it could make the events of the past five minutes acceptable and not embarassing.

Harry didn’t know men’s hands could be dainty, could be _precious,_ but those were the words that were running through his mind when Louis slipped his calloused hand into Harry’s large yeti paws _._

“I, um, guessed what with--” Louis’ eyes crinkled at the corners as he nodded his head towards Harry’s bottom half, other dainty hand pressing against the grin he was trying (and failing) to hide.

Their hands slipped apart as Harry’s attention was diverted down.

“Oh, _jesus christ_ ,” Harry whimpered, quietly.

Because there, in bold, black letters was Harry’s name on the waistband of his white tiny pants.

“Scared you’ll lose your pants, mate?” Louis snickered.

Harry’s blush was back in full force.

“Uni--umm--at uni I had to share a room with someone, ya know? Well, they kept getting my pants mixed up with theirs so I forced us both to put our names on the waistband and--I--I know it’s stupid but like, I thought it was clever at the time--”

“Ahh, so _you_ were the mastermind behind it, huh?” Louis’ eyebrows raised, eyes still crinkled.

It was stupid but Harry felt like the living, breathing definition of the word so it made sense that he nodded, head down, like the dimwit he felt he was. Like he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar and he was being scolded. He didn’t know why he was relating his feelings to something so juvenile, but just everything was so _overwhelming,_ his brain feeling like it’d been stuffed in a blender and turned to a pulp. For fuck’s sake, he could _smell_ Louis’ musk and here he was still standing in his sodding pants with his name written on the waistband in _sharpie_.

There was no way in hell Louis would see Harry as his superior, now. Not after this.

Louis let out a hum. Harry could hear the amusement in it.

“‘S really nothing to be ashamed of, mate, sounds like you’re a problem solver, yeah?” Louis chirped.

Harry couldn’t believe this man was actually not teasing him to death. That he was actually trying to make him feel better. Well, if he was going to act like it was nothing weird then Harry would try to end this whole terrible ordeal and leave before he made it somehow worse. Because, god knows, Harry was definitely capable of that.

“Yeah, well, any--anyway, I thought I’d welcome you because I didn’t want you to feel, like, left out, since, like, everyone got a proper hello when they got here... but I think that’s better left for when it’s actually daytime, I guess,” Harry drawled, mumbling the last words.

The thing was, Louis hadn’t stopped _staring_ at him and it was making Harry antsy, making him play with his hands, his skin still flushed and hot under the handsome lad’s scrutiny.

“Very gentlemanly of you,” Louis quirked his lips and, okay, now Harry was sure he actually was having fun with Harry’s predicament. “I’d carry on chatting with you, but ‘m beat, so this is my goodnight. Lovely to meet you, Harry,” Louis grinned, eyes dropping for the umpteenth time down to where the ink had branded Harry’s pants.

“G’night.” Harry breathed, as the shorter man began stepping around him.

Harry was about to slump against the cabinet door and maybe cry about his unfortunate luck he had with gorgeous boys, thinking the interaction had been over, but his body tensed up, back straight as a rod as he felt a slight finger slip just under his pant’s waistband. He snapped his head to the side, abruptly dizzy from the presence and smell and sight of Louis so close.

“Just a tip--next time you decide to claim your pants, put your number on there as well so people actually know who to call in case a random pair of pants with a pretty name ends up in their possession,” Louis breathed into Harry’s ear, the little puffs of air against his delicate skin making him shiver.

And then Louis let the waistband snap back to Harry’s soft love handle, _winked_ , actually fucking _winked_ at Harry and moved down the hall like a ghost, dog trotting behind him. Harry watched him leave, with complete and utter bewilderment because--what in the actual fuck was that?

When Harry flopped down unceremoniously back onto his bed, waking up poor Dusty in the process yet again, he let out a long groan.

“Dusty, men really are the worst.”

The cat climbed onto Harry’s chest, mewling, peering down at him with big, curious eyes, face millimeters from Harry’s.

“You don’t get it, Dusty. He’s so _pretty_. And I’m just--just, well, clumsy, awkward _Harry_ ,” he whimpered, pouting up at his cat.

And, really, he didn’t know what he expected to get from his tired cat except to be met with an eyeful of her bum as the cat settled down on Harry’s chest the opposite way she’d climbed on.

That’s how Harry fell asleep. Body sprawled defeatedly across his rumpled sheets, cat’s ass facing his head.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Morning came far too early for Harry’s liking, his alarm blaring through the stillness of the room. He let out a groan, slamming the old fashioned radio clock off, stuffing his face into his pillow like the drama queen he was as the memories of last night’s nightmare introduction came flooding back. But Harry was an optimistic person and he’d be damned if he let one slip up (more like a hundred but that was beside the point) ruin his second chance to impress the beauty from last night. It was morning and mornings were perfect for starting over, making things better.

With vigor, Harry pulled on a pair of pajama bottoms over his embarrassing pants and thrust himself into breakfast preparations. As the eggs and bacon cooled on the kitchen table where he’d set up plates and glasses of orange juice, Harry ran to the end of the house, banging his spatula on the boys’ doors.

“Come to the kitchen soon, boys!” Harry yelled as he passed Niall’s door.  

“Not happening!” Harry heard Niall shout from inside his room.

He smushed his face against the door, taunting loud enough in a sing song voice so Niall could hear, “There’s food.”

“What?!” Niall shrieked.

Harry heard some thumping and curses being spat out before the door flung open and Niall shoved Harry out of the way.

“Why didn’t you just say so, Harry,” Niall yelled, scampering down the hall and skidding into the kitchen in only his pants.

Harry squawked out a laugh.

Soon, all the boys had gathered around the table and were gobbling up the food, Niall finished before anyone else, rubbing his stomach, satisfied. As Liam was just finishing up, Niall and Zayn talking about the chores they needed to do first, Louis decided to help Harry take the dirty dishes to the sink.

“C’mere, Harry,” Louis said, straightening after putting the last of the utensils into the sink.

Harry had been keeping a wide berth around Louis and squeaking out an apology anytime he’d almost bumped into Louis. He was still having flashbacks of last night’s encounter, skin still burning where Louis’ finger had brushed his skin.

“Y-yes?” Harry cleared his throat, looking to Louis from under his curls.

He stepped forward, his body obeying Louis’ command as if that was all it knew to do.

“Just gonna—“ Louis cut himself off.

Harry’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion as Louis moved his hands to the waistband of his flannel bottoms. His eyes widened comically as Louis’ strong hand just pulled down the waistband enough to reveal the incriminating lettering on his underwear’s waistband.

“Boys, I think we ought to start marking our underwear like Harry here does,” Louis announced to the rest of the kitchen.

“Wha—?” Harry sputtered, hands fisted by his sides.

All the hands were eyeing Harry’s hip now, and his whole body burned with mortification.

Niall was the first to react, cackling so hard he started stomping his foot.

“What’ve you got there, bro?” Zayn smiled, eyes sparkling.

“Oi, Louis, don’t embarrass him, what the hell?” Liam protested.

“‘M not, _Liam_! I think it’s a bloody good idea. We all end up losing our sodding underwear and end up in stupid fights because we can’t tell whose is whose at some point,” Louis defended himself, indignant.

“I’d never want to embarass you, Harry. Just think it’s a good idea s’all,” Louis turned toward Harry, voice becoming softer, finger tracing over the black letters that spelled out Harry’s name.

Harry just stood there looking from the boys to Louis and then down to where Louis’ dainty hand was still gripping the two untied strings of his bottoms down to keep his pants exposed just enough. He was too shocked by the whole thing to move.

“So, you’re saying,” Niall gasped, arms clutching his waist, “that we should all write our names in ink on our pants?”

“Well, it’d be a hell of a lot easier when folding and returning everyone’s laundry!” Louis cried, offended his idea was being received so poorly.

“Mate, you never even do the washing or folding of the laundry. I don’t think you even know what laundry detergent looks like,” Liam chuckled.

Louis sputtered, trying to find a sarcastic remark to fling back at Liam, when Harry broke into the conversation.

“That’s alright, though, now because I can do the washing and the folding, ‘m quite good at it.”

Louis turned to Harry, tilting his head as his face took on that dazed expression that Harry was beginning to get confused by. His petite hand that wasn’t holding the strings of Harry’s bottoms cupped Harry’s cheek, and he patted it while saying, “Aww, Harry, there’s no need! It’s our mess to deal with.”

Harry returned the soft smile that Louis was giving him, replying, “No, really I enjoy it, it--umm--calms me down. I like being domestic.”

His cheeks turned pink, because _what the hell?_ Why did he tack that on, that’s so embarrassing, and he prayed Louis couldn’t feel the heat of his skin under his palm. Louis’ eyebrows raised, letting out a soft hum as he took in the information Harry had just blurted. He fidgeted under the gorgeous man’s steadfast face.

Zayn came to his rescue, standing up from the table and pushing them apart to get to the sink, finding his plate and beginning to wash it.

“Alright, Louis, nice little hazing but we really need to get out and feed the animals. Besides you should take a look at _your_ ,” Zayn turned to give Louis a once over, “ _style_ choices.”

Louis put a hand over his heart, face a perfect picture of disbelief.

“Bite your tongue, Zayn, I was not hazing Harold here. Honestly, what do you take me as?”

Louis caught Harry’s eye, shaking his head as if to say, ‘can you believe this madness?’.

“I take you as a little shit who’d rather terrorize his new boss then get to work as a head ranch hand should in the mornings,” Zayn smirked, walking towards his room.

“He just called me little,” Louis whispered to Harry in shock.

And then he was out of the room on Zayn’s heels, shouting, “I’m 5’ 9”, Zayn! ‘M _not_ little! Does that sound little to you, Zayn?”

The shouting and curses started fading as they got farther away but Harry could hear Zayn’s protests join in.

Niall was still trying to catch his breath, slumped over the table, little giggles slipping out, and Liam looked at Harry apologetically.

“Well, you survived your first morning here, Harry. Now you just have to survive the rest of the day.”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Turns out the rest of the day was easier than the breakfast incident, and Harry believed he could survive any and all types of embarrassment now without dying slowly on the inside, considering the torture and exposure he’d suffered within the last 24 hours. The true test, really, was having to sit in the office and go over numbers since that was actually Harry’s main job here, now, and resist the urge to just go out, sit down on a fence post, and admire the beautiful chaos that was Louis Tomlinson. Not that he’d tell anyone, but Harry had immediately gotten on Facebook once all the hands had started work and looked up his full name, thanks to the employee files his mum had kept in the drawers next to the desk. He discovered Louis had some embarrassing moments of his own, one of the pictures on his timeline being posted by his sister as a throwback thursday, in which he was sporting a hat that was really a football torn open to imitate a baseball cap. But he found himself drooling over the profile photos posted, one in which Louis was shirtless, holding a beer in one hand while tilting a cowboy hat down to just above his eyes with the other (Niall was beside him taking the selfie, but currently Harry couldn’t be arsed to focus on the blond, mind consumed by Louis) and Harry died internally when he realized it was taken in the evening on the porch steps of the very house he was sitting in right now. Another one that almost caused Harry to have a stroke was Louis sitting atop Rogue, a horse Harry assumed was Louis’, a horse he recognized from the barn that must’ve been brought to the farm when Harry was away. His meaty thighs were hidden under chaps, and his white shirt stuck to his sun kissed skin, the sweat on his torso causing the material to become translucent. And Harry knew this was wrong, practically stalking one of his employees while the man himself was riding out on the fields of his very own property, minding his work. So, he sighed, guilt washing over him in relentless waves as he took one last long look at the masterpiece that was Louis’ smiling face in his current profile photo (which had been posted already a year ago, so Harry guessed he wasn’t very active anymore), before signing out of his own very abandoned account. Before he could get any more ideas about other social media to stalk, he quickly started going over the various number sheets he’d opened up before being sidetracked by Facebook stalking. Hours later, head crammed with different numbers and equations, glasses perched on his nose, Harry decided he could take a break from familiarizing himself with the financial side of things and take inventory in the barn of all the feed and various necessary items needed to keep the farm animals happy and cared for. He’d be able to stretch his legs, get some fresh air, and say hello to White Eskimo and Queen. Without further ado, he turned off the office computer, booted up his laptop, opened the application he needed and strutted out of the house.

When he arrived in the large feed room he set his laptop down on a counter, adjusting his glasses and the olive green headscarf that was his favorite, before turning to count the number of grain bags piled high up into the ceiling. He was just typing the number into his laptop when a collar jingled and the loud panting of an animal filled the still air. The door, that was previously left ajar, burst open and Louis’ dog jogged cheerily into the room.

“Clifford, you better get your arse over here, ya little shit!” Harry heard Louis’ distinct voice, before he ran through the feedroom doorway as well, panting just like his dog.

“Louis,” Harry turned to face the door.

Louis stopped short, body tensing as he took in Harry’s face and general existence.

“Oi, Harold! You nearly scared me to death! What are you doing in here?” Louis asked, plucking at a ringlet of stubborn hair poking up from behind Harry’s scarf as he passed him to get to his dog, briskly clutching onto Clifford’s collar.

“Was taking inventory of all of our supplies,” Harry answered, feeling overwhelmed by Louis’ unexpected presence, eyes involuntarily drifting down Louis’ body as he bent to scold Clifford.

And, oh fuck, he was wearing chaps. Harry groaned under his breath as his eyes fell to Louis’ arse that was accentuated by the straps of the chaps wrapped just under each cheek. Of all the kinks he had to find out about, it had to be chaps. Or maybe it was just _Louis_ wearing chaps that made his knees go weak.

“Ah, well, you look like a proper businessman, Mr. Uni Degree,” Louis teased, once he’d straightened and turned to face Harry completely.

“Clifford get away on you?”

“Well, forgot me big water bottle at the house, and Cliff was following me like he usually does until he decided to come visit you, apparently. Normally he follows me around just fine, but he has his moments. Sorry for the interruption.”

“‘S no problem at all,” Harry chuckled, wiping his glasses on his shirt before putting them back on.

“Glasses suit you well. I used to wear them when I was younger, looked a proper doofus.”

“‘M sure you didn’t,” Harry smiled, pushing his glasses up his nose, self consciously.

Louis laughed, and Harry delighted in the sound.

“At best, I looked studious. Those look downright sexy on you. Bet all the girls at uni just loved you,” Louis laughed.

“I wouldn’t know, I was too busy concentrating on not tripping over my toes since I couldn’t see over all the books I had to carry. Besides, even if they were, I wouldn’t find any interest in them, anyway,” Harry admitted, shrugging.

Louis quirked an eyebrow, a smirk slowly spreading over his face. Harry’s eyes widened as he realized that could be taken the completely wrong way--or right way depending on how you looked at it. Thing is, Harry wasn’t planning on disclosing his fucking sexuality, he just tended to say things that made him sound, well, _not_ _straight_. And now, Louis could have suspicions about him, could feel uncomfortable, could _ridicule_ him. And it’s not like Harry was ashamed of being gay, but he didn’t know what the other ranch hands would say and right now he really wanted to present himself as someone they could follow, could see as a leader. He didn’t want them focusing on his sexuality.

“Good to know, Harold,” Louis grinned.

There was a beat where they both just stared at each other and then Louis abruptly left, leading Clifford out of the room.

Harry slumped against the counter, wanting the world to end his misery. It seemed he couldn’t be trusted to speak around the head ranch hand. Not without saying something completely idiotic or completely work inappropriate. And, god help him, those _chaps._ They were like a torture device made especially for his libido. How was he even expected to function with that image seared into his filthy brain?

This job was going to turn out to be a lot harder than he initially thought.

 


	3. Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't remember if I mentioned this, but this story will be told from both Harry's and Louis' point of view. I'm working on making the chapters longer and hopefully I can actually stick to my schedule, but we'll see how it goes. I apologize for any spelling or punctuation mistakes.
> 
> Any criticism is welcome!
> 
> My tumblr: andtheywerebandmates

(Louis’ POV)

“Louis, you sure you don’t want us to stick around and help you close down the barn?” Zayn asked.

The boys had ridden back to the farm, after herding the cattle to the correct pasture, just as dusk began to fall and the crickets began their nightly orchestral performance. All the ranch hands had untacked their horses, cooled them down before turning them out to pasture, since they slept outside in the warmer seasons. As usual, Louis had ordered the boys to go and eat dinner, letting them know he’d stay behind to do the last check up on everything.

“‘Course, Zayn, I’ll be fine. It’s my job as ranch hand, have you forgotten that already after only a day of being away? Go on with the other boys,” Louis nodded his head toward the big exit of the barn, offering a reassuring smile.

Zayn hesitated, looking unsure. Liam walked to his side, Louis just noticing now that he’d stayed behind instead of following Niall up to the house.

“He’ll be fine, Zayn, come on,” Liam placed a hand on Zayn’s shoulder, brown eyes focused on Zayn who promptly followed his lead after both boys waved a goodnight to Louis.

Louis watched on curiously, eyebrows raising at the sight of Liam’s hand lingering on the dip in Zayn’s back before it slid off. Liam’s head dipped close to Zayn’s as they spoke.

 _Interesting_ , he thought to himself.

Louis returned to his work, making sure the gates were locked to all the nearby occupied pastures, his tired legs burning after sitting in a saddle all day. He’d be lying to himself if he said he hadn’t started developing a bowlegged stance. Niall made sure to remind him every few weeks, walking ridiculously with his legs bent out awkwardly, and arms bent at the elbows. The charade never lasted long because Niall would double over laughing at his own antics, but it lasted long enough for Louis to roll his eyes and shove Niall back into his work. Of course, none of the men he worked with could ever really annoy him, the four of them sharing a bond akin to what they had with their families.

Louis’ mind wandered to his new boss, the curly-haired lad, smiling subconsciously at the memory of those dimples that dug into his pink cheeks, locks an absolute mess on his head as he’d eaten breakfast. He hoped Harry felt welcomed by them. It had worried him that he might’ve taken it a bit far with the whole “name on the pants” situation. But truly, he found it endearing, and if he didn’t cover that up with some sort of joke or good natured taunt his fascination with the gangly young man might be revealed. Louis wasn’t by any means ready for the brutal questioning and investigations that would fall upon him if any of the ranch hands noticed. Besides, while Harry seemed like a nice fellow, it didn’t mean he was cut out for the serious concentration and attention to detail it took to keep the ranch going. Not that Louis even knew what it was that Anne, and now Harry, did on that computer, but he assumed it had something to do with numbers and talking to companies and. . . stuff. Whatever it was, he knew it was important and though his whole body wanted to trust Harry, there was a small voice in Louis’ head that kept him from fully trusting him. This ranch was his home for years now, and Harry was fresh out of uni. Cute, handsome, endearing, and fresh out of uni. Louis sighed.

As Louis came to the end of his list of things to do, the night list, he stopped at the white board that was nailed to the wall next to the feed room to write down tomorrow’s chores. With his mind wandering back and forth between his tasks and his new boss, the conversation they’d had briefly in the feed room came back to him. Last time Louis checked, his gaydar was as accurate as it had always been. It’d helped him avoid the awkward rejection that would come with trying to pull a straight boy at high school parties to helping him pick out who in his crowd of friends were queer as he’d gotten older, the ones he could trust with chatting about the conquests they’d had in the past and complain about the heteronormativity that was pressed on everyone from a young age. Some things straight people just didn’t get, regardless of how open minded they were. So, if Louis’ gaydar had anything to say about anything, which it did, Harry was not one of those open minded straight people. He was an open minded definitely _not_ straight person. Louis never was quick to label, but he’d gotten serious vibes from Harry in all of their encounters.

When he’d finally pulled himself out of his thoughts, he realized he’d written Harry’s name instead of the type of feed that needed to be mixed.

“Louis?”

“Shit!” Louis hissed, quickly erasing the name before whipping around to face the exact person he’d just been thinking about.

“Lou, I was ju-- _ahh_!”

“Watch your step!” Louis cried.

With a grimace he watched as Harry fell to his hands on the cement ground of the barn, and quickly scurried over to help Harry up.

“You alright, there?”

“Thanks, yeah, god, I probably shouldn’t have worn these,” Harry grumbled.

Louis strained to keep a straight face on as Harry’s lips jutted out into a pout. He looked down at Harry’s feet to find they were in flimsy, rubber boots one size too big for him. That’s also when he realized that the young man was dressed in pyjamas, a white t-shirt with a small hole at the neck for a top and the same flannel bottoms from this morning covering his long legs.

“You always this clumsy, Harold?” Louis asked, unnecessarily brushing Harry’s shoulders off, as if there was something there. He couldn’t resist the nickname.

Harry bit his lip, cheeks turning that shade of pink that Louis was starting to think was his favorite color from now on.

God, what was wrong with him? He needed to go for a drink and get laid soon.

“Um, sort of?” Harry mumbled, picking at his nails. “I was wondering, though, if you were alright, um, because, like, you weren’t at dinner and it’s getting dark and, just thought I should check on you,” he said, shuffling from foot to foot, catching Louis’ eyes shyly.

“Well, that’s handy, innit? I check up on the animals and barn, and you check up on me, hm?” Louis hummed, cherishing how Harry’s dimples appeared as he smiled bashfully.

“Well, I _am_ the boss, Louis. I mean, someone’s gotta make sure you’re not, like, dying out here,” Harry stated matter of factly, a grim look on his face.

Jesus, Louis was going to implode if Harry didn’t stop looking like a petulant child that had been put in time out, red lips in a pout, eyes squinting, arms crossed. Louis could tell he was tired by the way he rubbed briefly at his eyes, which, now was among one of the most adorable things Louis had witnessed.

“Someone’s gotta make sure I’m not dying, huh? And this is coming from my boss who falls over about a three inch difference in height between where the barn floor starts and the dirt outside?”

“ _Heeyy_ ,” Harry grumbled, eyebrows furrowing.

Louis almost expected him to stomp his foot against the ground.

“‘M just kidding, Harry. I’m flattered you thought to come outside, but I think you’re falling asleep on your feet and I was just finishing up,” Louis smiled, not being able to resist placing a hand on Harry’s (large) bicep in reassurance.

The young lad’s eyes lit up at that, as if a light bulb went off in his head. “We can walk back to the house together,” he suggested.

Louis stood there, contemplating for a moment. On one hand, he felt as though he should stay behind because with how Harry was looking, stifling yawns and hair falling out of his headband, he didn’t know if he was going to be able to resist the urge to just wrap his arms around him and cuddle him. It was absurd, the things he was feeling so suddenly for someone he’d only just met. On the other hand, though, Harry was looking at him with those crystal clear green eyes, shining with hope and Louis hated being the reason behind causing someone disappointment, even if it was something as simple as turning down an offer to be walked home.

“Oh, alright, you win, Harold,” Louis smiled.

He was rewarded with a full on grin, Harry’s rabbit teeth on display.

“Wonderful,” Harry said, clasping his hands together.

Louis went back to write down the correct word on the board, turn off all the lights, and lock the barn doors. When he turned to follow Harry up to the house he realized how late it had gotten, the sky now a rich blue.

The silence between the two men wasn’t uncomfortable, and Louis felt far too tired to engage in any real conversation as they walked. Harry however spoke up.

“I hope you don’t mind, I got caught up in trying to figure out this software on the computer and completely forgot to make dinner. I wanted to make you all a nice meal for when you came back, considering it’s your first day back on the job but--”

“Harry!” Louis stopped Harry in his tracks, gripping his arm firmly. “We were gone for one day. It’s not like we expect you to cook all the bloody time. We’re used to living on sandwiches and canned soup, no need to treat us like we’re royalty or some shit.”

Harry’s expression was one of horror. “That’s not a balanced diet at all,” he mumbled to himself more than to Louis as they climbed the steps to the house.

Louis shook his head, smiling as he threw off his boots and let them land haphazardly on top of the pile of boots in the entryway. Harry slipped off the rubber boots he was wearing with some difficulty and Louis hid a smile underneath his hand when he saw how gingerly Harry placed them next to the chaotic pile. With a huff, Harry looked up, and Louis quickly averted his eyes.

“I’m going to take a shower. Thanks for the walk up to the house,” Louis said, walking towards his bedroom.

“Anytime. G’night, Louis,” Harry murmured.

Louis looked back at Harry and gave him a small wave in return before he disappeared into his room and Louis did the same.

After grabbing his toiletries and a fresh pair of pyjamas, he took a shower, scrubbing the grime and dirt off of his body. The hot water felt incredible on his skin, the soap swirling around his feet after getting washed off his body. He got out after awhile and dressed in his night clothes before heading to the kitchen, his stomach growling as loud as Cliff could when he thought he saw something suspicious outside.

Louis opened the fridge, digging through the contents. Not finding anything that looked appealing, he rummaged through the cupboards, getting annoyed with himself because he was being picky and he really should just pick something so that he could hit the hay. Cliff trotted into the kitchen as Louis opened the fridge again, hoping something would appear that he didn’t spot before. A container that had tape on the top with the initial ‘H’ written on it caught his eye. He guessed the initial stood for Harry’s name. It wasn’t like Louis would be doing anything wrong if he just opened up the container, just to see what it was Harry’d made for himself. What he found was a lone chicken drumstick with some green beans and asparagus. Louis’ mouth watered at the image in his head of steam rising from the chicken and vegetables. He could warm it up in the microwave and be off to bed in no time at all. Cliff whined up at Louis, pulling him out of his thoughts.

“What am I thinking? I can’t eat this!” Clifford tilted his head at Louis as if asking why.

Louis sighed, placing the top back onto the container and promptly closing the fridge door. He turned his back to the fridge, and crossed his arms in defiance against the ache of hunger in his stomach.

“‘M not going to eat Harry’s food. It’s completely unacceptable. Nope, I’m not going to do it,” he whispered to himself in the dimly lit kitchen. The rest of the house was dark and silent, except for Niall’s distant obnoxious snoring.

Louis turned to Cliff, “But, it’s not like he’d mind, right? He did seem like he disapproved of my food choices, didn’t he?”

Clifford sniffed and licked his hand in answer. “Yeah that’s what I thought, too. I’ll make it up to him, somehow.”

And that’s how Louis found himself putting the single chicken drumstick on a plate, leaving the vegetables because, well, taking _all_ of Harry’s leftovers was just rude. After all, Louis really didn’t care much for vegetables anyway. But, _god_ , how good stolen food was.  Louis almost moaned at the taste of the perfectly seasoned meat practically melting on his tongue, licking and sucking the grease right off his fingers. Shit, he really didn’t know how he was going to resist eating Harry’s leftovers every night if they all were this good.

 _No, Tommo, none of that. Harry is your boss. Your very fit, very clumsy boss who just so happens to have the cutest teeth and dimples and nice little body you’ve ever seen_ , Louis thought.

He rolled his eyes at himself. This attraction to Harry really needed to stop before he lost himself in dirty thoughts while on the job. Fantasizing about yanking on Harry’s curls as he fucked his face and cuddling him after was already plaguing his mind every time his eyes landed on those lush lips of Harry’s. It hadn’t escaped Louis how Harry stuck his tongue out before taking a bite of something at breakfast, the sinful sight fueling filthy thoughts, making Louis almost chub up at the kitchen table.

Before long, the chicken was gone and Louis’ eyes were closing on their own from exhaustion. He stumbled out of the kitchen, not bothering to brush his teeth, instead heading straight for his bedroom with Clifford on his heels.

“The deed is done. I’m a shit employee,” Louis mumbled to Clifford who climbed onto his bed in the darkness.

He snuggled deeper under his blanket, ignoring the guilt that was growing in his gut as he let sleep take him under.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The ringing of an alarm woke Louis and he grumbled, turning to shut it off. Mornings were always a struggle and this one was no different than any other. Sleep still blinding him, he shuffled to the kitchen to make a cuppa, only to see Harry standing at the fridge. A frown was etched into his face as he stared at something in his hands. Louis was still too irritated at the fact that he had to get up and start his day before the sodding sun came up to investigate or question Harry. He simply patted his naked shoulder as he brushed past him to start his tea.

“Louis?”

Louis grunted in response, engrossed in his tea making.

“Umm, do you know--do you think--” Harry stumbled over his words, sounding puzzled. “My chicken’s gone.”

Louis froze with his hand on the tea kettle handle, his grip tightening. Fuck. He schooled his face into nonchalance and turned to Harry.

“Did you forget you ate your own leftovers, Harold?” He joked, raising his eyebrows.

The lad had foregone his pyjamas from last night and Louis’ eyes slid to the bulge nestled snugly in his pants before he trained his gaze on Harry’s eyes again. Those were a distraction, too. The whole fucking existence of Harry Styles was a distraction.

Harry’s frown deepened, full on pouting now as he stared at the sad green beans and asparagus that sat at the bottom of his container. Louis wanted to smush his cute, pouty face between his hands.

“I didn’t eat it, _Lewis_ , I’m sure of that,” Harry sassed. “There was a plate on the table which had chicken grease on it when I came in here this morning.”

Louis groaned internally. Why couldn’t he just drop it?

“I don’t know who ate your chicken, Sherlock. And how in the bloody hell do you manage to wake up so early and be so chipper? I’m dead on me feet,” Louis grumbled. Hopefully the change in subject would distract Harry from his missing chicken. And distract Louis from the guilt that was rising in him.

“It’s motivating,” Harry countered, a smirk threatening to break through his stern expression.

Louis almost slumped in relief as Harry threw the leftovers back in the fridge, pulling out milk instead.

When he went to grab the cereal he continued, “Also, it’s probably because I sit on my arse all day in the office while you work yours off.”

This was punctuated by Harry slapping his bum and giving it a good squeeze, remaining eye contact with Louis over his shoulder. Louis’ jaw clenched and he turned quickly to his now whistling kettle. That image would forever be ingrained in his brain. It was far too early for thoughts about wrecking his boss, but here he was doing it anyway. Harry wasn’t helping his cause at all.

“Do you normally go around, slapping your bum for everyone you know or is it just your employees, _boss_?” Louis asked, moving to the table, teacup in hand.

“Oh no, I reserve that move only for certain head ranch hands who are particularly grumpy in the mornings,” Harry smirked, tongue falling out of his mouth as he shoved a spoonful of cereal into his mouth.

Louis almost choked on his drink, eyebrows shooting up to his hairline, quickly recovering with, “Promiscuous.”

Harry just kept smirking at him in response as he chewed on his food, a light blush tinting his cheeks.

“Morning, boys,” Liam greeted, entering the kitchen.

“Morning,” Louis and Harry said in unison.

“Ready for another hard day of work?” he asked.

“Sure, if you give me a few more hours of sleep,” Louis answered, slumping in his chair.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say Liam here is the head ranch hand,” Harry teased, a mischievous glint in his eye as he stared at Louis.

Louis was starting to wonder if Harry had taken something or had a few pints in his room. The boy would not quit. And it was really fucking hard to keep to his morals when he looked like _that_ , laurel tattoos framing his small stomach, love handles curving out from the waistband of his pants.

“Ha! You should see him at work, he’s relentless. In a good way, of course,” Liam smiled.

“Ahh,” Harry replied, eyebrows raising.

Louis couldn’t wrap his head around why Harry always looked like he was thinking something dirty.

“If you think Liam’s the real head ranch hand around here maybe you should slap your bum for him,” Louis taunted.

Liam’s eyes bugged out, shock apparent on his face as he looked between Harry and Louis. Louis revelled in the way Harry’s whole face flushed a bright red. Looks like he had his limitations in his flirtatious ways, after all.

“W-what?” Liam sputtered.

“Inside joke,” Louis answered, dismissing him with a wave of his hand.

“Right, okay,” Liam muttered, moving to the living room to finish his cereal.

Louis got up to put his teacup in the sink, satisfied with himself. Harry was leaning against the counter next to the sink and Louis turned to him, pressing against his thick arm.

“Not so promiscuous are you, now?” Louis murmured.

Harry looked into his eyes bashfully, rosy cheeks red as ever, eyes wide. “Was only being promiscuous for you,” he blurted.

A stab of arousal shot through Louis’ body and he restrained from uttering a curse. Harry seemed to realize what he said a moment later, eyes widening further. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

Louis felt sympathy for him on some level, and maybe he took his teasing too far, but Harry hadn’t moved away from him and he sensed no discomfort, other than his embarrassment at his slip up, at anything Louis had said so far.

Regardless, Louis moved away from Harry, winking at him before he could stop himself. He left the kitchen without another word. In the hallway, he took a steadying breath and let out a screeching, ‘Oi, Oi,’ as he banged on Niall’s and Zayn’s doors. He heard Niall cursing and Zayn’s muffled ‘come off it’. Smiling to himself, he went into his bedroom to dress for the day, putting him and Harry’s weird sexual tension to the back of his mind. One thing was for sure, there was no way in hell that boy was straight.


	4. Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope anyone who reads this has as much fun reading it as I do writing it.   
> I somehow messed up Dusty's gender and thought she was a male cat, oops! So, I changed her pronouns to female. I'm fairly new to the fandom, don't hate me!
> 
> My tumblr: andtheywerebandmates

(Louis’ POV)

Over the next few days, what was supposed to be a one time lapse in judgement turned into a nearly nightly crime spree of Louis indulging himself with Harry’s decadent leftovers. He’d always leave some for Harry, never taking all for himself because he was considerate like that.

Harry’s frustration grew, his adorable pout turning into a more stern expression of displeasure when he would pull out his leftovers to find them even more diminished than when he had stuck them into whatever container was necessary. Maybe Louis would’ve stopped by now if it wasn’t so damn addictive to watch Harry’s boyish face turn into a cross glare as he examined his picked on leftovers. It took a large amount of self control on Louis’ part not to chuckle at how Harry would mumble and grumble to himself over his situation. He would take whatever dirty plate and utensil Louis had used the previous night and wash it chaotically, not caring about it banging against the sides of the sink as he rinsed it, when usually he would scold any of the boys for doing the same. It was both sexually frustrating for Louis to watch, due to Harry’s furrowed brows and concentrated stare, and also romantically frustrating, if that was even a phrase, because Harry was also so soft looking in the morning, lips puffy from sleep and hair curling out in all directions. Louis wanted to both make him fall apart and then wrap himself around him ‘til he was whole again.

Apparently, though, Harry wasn’t irked enough to question the boys further than the first time his food had been eaten into, which Louis was confused about.

Regardless of how delicious it was to delve into Harry’s food, Louis always felt a sinking feeling of guilt settling at the bottom of his stomach, and he intended to fix that. He just didn’t know what would be worthy of giving to Harry as an apology. Anonymously, of course. There was no way he would expose himself as the culprit. He made no promises to himself that he would stop, either, though.

Currently, Louis was saddling up along with the other men, all boisterously chattering and discussing what lunch they had made for when that time rolled around. Louis laughed, shaking his head as Liam whined about Niall eating in the barn.

“You’re going to get crumbs all over the floor, Niall!”

“Oh, sod off! It’s not like you’ve never eaten in here,” Niall exclaimed, taking another bite of his bar.

“Not granola bars! Those things are bloody messy, go _everywhere_ , Niall, and you know it.” Liam crossed his arms, looking at Niall with squinted eyes.

“I didn’t see a sign saying we couldn’t eat specifically granola bars in here, did you, Zayn?” Niall turned to Zayn, who had stayed quiet throughout the bickering, exchanging playful eye rolls at the men’s behavior with Louis.

“I agree with Liam, actually. Don’t want mice comin’ in here and havin’ a feast.” Zayn shrugged.

It didn’t escape Louis how Zayn’s eyes met Liam’s briefly, and they both shared small smiles.

Niall looked horrified, pressing a hand to his chest.

“Oi, you look like a right damsel in distress. Stop being such a drama queen, you can finish your granola bar once we’re on our way out,” Louis commanded, mounting Rogue.

“You won this fight, Liam, but an Irishman never gives up so easily.” Niall pointed his half-eaten bar at Liam before mounting his own horse.

“Whatever you say, mate,” Liam sighed, already atop his steed.

“Speaking of forbidden food, did anyone else get questioned by Harry about his missing leftovers?” Zayn asked, hopping off his horse to tighten the cinch.

“Ah, yes, that was quite strange, actually. I thought maybe he’d just forgotten he’d eaten it all but it seems like whoever’s doing it hasn’t stopped,” Liam replied, giving a pointed look in Niall’s direction.

“What’re you lookin’ at me for? I didn’t do anything!” Niall shrieked.

“That’s what they all say,” Louis taunted, a smirk spreading over his lips.

“Since when did I become the scapegoat for one of _your_ wrong doings, Louis?”

Louis gasped, trying to play off the panic that filled him as mock offense. “You think that I would dare to touch my own _boss’_ food?”

“Like that would stop you. You’ve never given a shit about someone’s position over you,” Niall hurled back.

“Bet he does now, though, since his own boss is a big hunk,” Zayn laughed, avoiding Louis’ swings at him with his lariat.

“Oi! Oi, oi! Respect your elders,” Louis cried, still trying to get at Zayn.

“Loueh!” Zayn laughed, dodging each swipe of Louis’ lariat.

“Does that mean you consider Harry a hunk, Zayn?” Liam asked, leaning forward in his saddle.

A strange feeling settled in Louis’ gut, a weighty feeling that made his movements slow and his arms pull back from Zayn. He straightened in his saddle, leaning back and taking in Zayn. “Oo Zaynie has a crush?” He tried to keep the mirth in his voice, but it had somehow carried more bite to it than he’d hoped it would. Thankfully, none of the other men noticed.

“Do you really, Zayn?” Liam’s eyebrows narrowed, as if this was some important information they had fallen on and not some stupid teasing.

“‘Course he does!” Louis exclaimed, urging his horse ahead of everyone so they wouldn’t stay stuck near the barn all morning, not getting any work done. He also didn’t care to hear Zayn’s reply.  

“Uh, Louis?” Liam hesitated.

“He’s a good lad,” Louis continued, ignoring Liam, eyes focused on the trail ahead of them.

“ _Louis_ ,” Liam repeated, urgency in his tone.

Louis ignored his warning tone, his brain too focused on the image of Harry coming in from the garden one day, pulling off his shirt right in front of innocent, unsuspecting Louis who had froze in place with a crisp halfway to his mouth. His eyes had immediately glued to Harry’s bare torso covered in a sheen of sweat, tattoos shining black on his skin. “Good lad, nice little body.”

A silence fell over the men, and Louis only realized how awkward it was when he heard someone with a distinct deep voice clear their throat. Louis pulled his horse up short and turned him around, seeing Niall slapping his forehead out of the corner of his eyes, giggles slipping out from behind the hands he placed over his face.

Louis’ eyes landed on Harry, standing there pigeon-toed and blushing, curls framing his face, hands folded behind his back. However embarrassed Harry was at the statement he’d clearly overheard, Louis was ten times more so, sweat gathering at his hairline.

“Look, who’s come to send us off.” Louis smiled, recovering quickly, looking down at Harry from atop his horse.

“Actually, I was wondering if I could tag along and come with you. I’d like to, um, just get out of the house today. It’d only take me a moment to tack up my horse.”

“Nonsense, Curly. Just hop up here behind me. Rogue can take the weight of both of us,” Louis chirped.

“Oh, I don’t want to be a burden to him,” Harry said, toeing his shoe into the dirt.

Louis’ insides twisted at the sight of the tall man looking so unsure and adorable.

“Harold, if you don’t get up on this horse in a couple seconds, I’ll just get off and haul you up myself.”

Harry grinned bashfully, sidling up closer to Rogue’s side. Louis slipped his foot out of the stirrup, allowing Harry to heave himself up and settle behind the saddle Louis was perched in.

“There we go, not so bad, is it, Hazza?” Louis asked, looking at Harry over his shoulder.

He delighted in the blush Harry was sporting at the new nickname.

“He’s got a plushy bum,” Harry said, adorably shifting around on Rogue.

“Plushy bums are always to be appreciated,” Louis mumbled, eyes glinting with mischief as Harry looked away, shyly.

It was amazing how this man could go from some sassy minx to a bashful bundle of adorableness. Louis was utterly perplexed at the layered personality he had.

“Right, then. Shall we get to it, boys?” Louis exclaimed, nudging Rogue forward, leading the pack towards the fields.

For the first several minutes of the ride, they all rode at a walk and Harry only made his presence known to Louis when his long fingers would brush his arse pushed against the seat of the saddle to grab onto the back of the saddle, shifting every now and again. Louis knew he wasn’t doing it on purpose, the slight contact so brief there was clearly no intent behind it except to steady himself. He seemed to be enthralled by the beauty surrounding them and the rest of the men settled into their usual chatter as they headed towards the field to move the cows. Louis interjected loud, teasing, sarcastic comments into the chatter.

“Oh!” Harry gasped, quietly.

If Louis wasn’t so close to him the noise would’ve been lost in the jovial conversation of the other men.

“All right?” Louis asked, checking on Harry over his shoulder.

“There was a butterfly, flew straight past me,” Harry breathed, doe eyes wide.

Louis chuckled. “Yeah, there’s loads of bushes out here that they love to gather in.”

Harry sighed in contentment, a wistful expression on his face. “I’d love to come out here some time and take some photos,” he mumbled.

Louis’ eyebrows raised. “That a hobby of yours?”

“Yeah,” Harry breathed, gripping onto the saddle again and pushing up. Louis shivered at the feeling of his hot breath fanning over his neck.

How many times did a lad need to adjust himself on a horse?

“Well, it was. Haven’t done it in ages, not since going to uni. I miss it, alot. I even took classes in secondary school.” Louis could hear the smile in Harry’s voice.

“Right photographer you are then, hm?”

“I _was_ decent. Don’t know if I’ve lost the knack for it, now, after so much time.”

“Don’t be silly, bet your photos could be put in a proper gallery.” Louis threw him a grin.

“Bet you couldn’t take a perfect group picture like I do, though!” Niall interjected.

“Yes, Nialler, we know. No one could ever replace you in that area,” Louis rolled his eyes, fondly.

“You should’ve seen us at the pub once, mate,” Liam said to Harry, jumping into the conversation. “This waiter was trying to take a group photo of us at our table on St. Patrick’s day and Niall kept whingeing about how he could do it, over and over.”

“Yeah, and none of you listened to me! We got a shit picture because of it. Serves you all right. I could’ve told you all from the moment I saw his name was Jack that he’d be shit at it.”

Harry had dissolved into a fit of giggles behind Louis which dissolved him into a pile of fondness.

“What’s wrong with the name Jack?” Zayn asked, puzzled.

“Reminds me of that sodding nursery rhyme ‘bout Jack and Jill and fetching water. Fucking terrible name,” Niall grumbled.

Liam scolded Niall about how offensive he was being, though no one was taking him seriously with all the giggles he kept letting out.

Louis swivelled around, and Harry leaned in like his body already knew that was what Louis needed him to do. “Remind me to blast that tomorrow morning when he’s still sleeping,” Louis murmured into Harry’s ear.

Harry pulled back, a cheeky grin slowly building on his features, dimples coming out. Louis loved how his eyes took on that glisten, like he could see Harry’s thoughts through them, transparent and mischievous.

Louis straightened, but his back went rigid when he could feel Harry’s breath on his neck again, closer than before, Harry rasping, “At your service.”

Louis cleared his throat, hoping Harry didn’t see the slight shiver that ran down his spine at the words and proximity of Harry. “Let’s pick up the pace, boys! Don’t have all day!”

And with that he pushed Rogue into a brisk trot, and triumphed internally at how Harry squealed sharply from behind him, having no choice but to wrap his arms around Louis’ petite, firm waist, chest brushing against Louis’ back so as not to topple off.

“There you go, Hazza, get a good grip.” Louis encouraged, stomach muscles tensing at the sensation of having Harry’s long fingers digging into his waist.

He could feel Harry’s curls tickling the side of his neck and face as he tried to shift himself into a more sturdy position. He clung to Louis like he was his lifeline, short breaths puffing from his mouth and chest bumping against Louis’ back. Louis was dizzy with the scent that came with his close proximity.

“‘S a bit b-bumpy, L-Lou,” he stuttered, sounding like his breath was getting punched out of him. Looks like Harry was following the other boy’s lead in shortening Louis’ name.

Louis melted on the inside at how vulnerable he sounded. Like a little puppy needing protection. He always did love puppies. Puppies were his favorite.

“Never said it was going to be a smooth ride.” Louis laughed over the creaking of saddles as the boys followed in a group.

As a way to reassure him, he squeezed one of the hands gripping tightly onto his waist. What he didn’t expect was the death grip that his hand was now stuck in, Harry not letting him go. Louis smiled to himself, loving how soft Harry’s hands were against his rough, calloused ones. Even though it was Harry clinging onto Louis for protection from falling, Louis felt like he was the one being kept safe, with his hand dwarfed in Harry’s larger one, clammy but perfect. They continued on like that for the next few minutes before they reached the field. Harry told Louis to let him down, that he would hang out and wait on them to get the work done.

“That’s a long time to be out here,” Louis said, looking down at Harry after he’d dismounted and straightened himself after tripping on the ground.

Louis had tried not to let his fond smile show. He couldn’t help that Harry’s clumsy ways always made his body ache in a way that could only be cured by wrapping Harry in his arms and kissing the pout he’d get after every stumble he made. Which he never did, of course. It drove him absolutely mad. The attraction he felt for the young man had grown immensely and sometimes Louis couldn’t help but to give in and touch Harry unnecessarily. A caress on his forearm when Harry would hand him a plate of food at dinner or breakfast when he had time to cook for them all, a tug on his trousers as he walked behind him in the hallway, a pinch on each cheek when he’d tell him what a brilliant person he was for doing their laundry. Louis just couldn’t help himself. Harry’s skin was addictive--in all its states. Sweaty, dry, damp from the shower, Louis loved it all, the feel of it’s baby softness like a drug to him.

And there was his obsession with the curls. Oh, _god_ , Harry’s curls. They looked like they begged to be played with, tugged, yanked on. Louis ached to find out if that turned Harry on, because it would certainly turn Louis on to do that to him. He’d wanked off several times already to the fantasy of splitting him open with his cock, taking him from the back, gathering a fistful of the lovely, soft locks and pulling back hard to drive himself deeper into Harry’s pert arse.

“I think I’ll just walk back at lunchtime, maybe a little earlier. It’s not too far and I like a good hike,” Harry reassured him.

“I won’t allow that! Rogue and I will take you home. Can’t have those pretty, long legs getting tired out.” Louis smirked at how the other man started fidgeting.

He should’ve been ashamed for so openly flirting with him, especially right in front of his co-workers, but he couldn’t bring himself to care when the sight of Harry squirming under the attention was so beautiful.

As Harry began to protest, Louis just turned to open the gate of the field they needed to enter, yelling over his shoulder that he’d be back in a couple of hours, knowing that staying out here longer would be far too boring.

\----------------------------------------------------------------

When Louis had cantered back to the gate of the field, sweating from the exertion of his work, he found Harry sitting atop the wooden fence, eyes raised to the sky.

“Got your head up in the clouds, Hazza?” Louis inquired, getting Harry’s gaze to snap to his.

“I was just thinking, how beautiful and blue the sky was,” Harry answered, looking back up at it again.

Louis followed his gaze to the clear, open heavens. It was true, the sky was exceptionally blue today.

“That your favorite color or summat?” He asked, not quite sure what Harry was on about.

“I do like blue and orange quite a lot, yes,” Harry replied, mounting Rogue from the fence.

Louis was taken aback by his flexibility. The surprises never ceased to end with Harry Styles, it seemed.

As they rode out of the field and down the path that led to the house, Louis noticed that Harry seemed to be deep in thought. He also noticed how Harry slumped against him, arms wrapped around his waist. He wished he could keep riding on like this for hours. Harry’s broad chest inflated and deflated deeply against Louis’ back and he heard Harry’s little sigh.

“The sun makes me sleepy.” His voice came out small, and he nuzzled into Louis’ shoulder.

“You going to take a nap once you get back?” Louis asked, heart filling with warmth at Harry curling right up against him.

Harry hummed in reply. “Lou?” Harry asked after a moment, his deep voice sounding dreamy.

“Yes, Hazza?” Louis asked, gently.

“Your eyes are more beautiful than the sky. My favorite shade,” Harry mumbled, rubbing his cheek on Louis’ cotton shirt.

Louis’ heart beat a bit faster at that, not knowing how to respond to this sweet confession from Harry. Maybe it wasn’t a confession, though. Maybe he was just being his affectionate self and Louis’ own desire to be more than just friends, because they were already more than just boss and employee with a good relationship as Harry was with all the ranch hands, was making this out to be a bigger, more intimate thing than it was. Regardless, it made him feel giddy inside and that ache to snuggle up with the boy behind him was back in full force. That desire never really left, anyway, he’d just gotten good at ignoring it.

“Well, you wanna know what I think about your eyes?” Louis asked, hesitantly.

“Tell me. Please?” Harry spoke, hooking his chin over Louis’ shoulder, his lips less than an inch from his neck.

“Your eyes are prettier than any emerald. Prettiest shade of green I’ve ever seen,” Louis admitted.

“The prettiest?” Harry breathed, and Louis’ skin burned under the material of his top as the warmth of where Harry had placed his lips over the shirt seeped through.

“The absolute prettiest,” Louis confirmed.

Harry let out another hum, a happy lilt to it that Louis savored.

They were almost back now and Louis itched to tuck Harry into bed, wanting to see his adorable features as he fell asleep, smooth those curls away from his forehead and hear another one of those happy hums. Instead, when they reached the house, Louis dismounted after Harry slid to the ground, successfully managing not to trip this time.

“So, you miss photography, right?” Louis asked, knowing he was being a bit risky here. If Louis’ attention wasn’t wanted it could cause a drift between them.

“Oh, loads, Lou. Ever since I got back all I’ve wanted to do is take pictures of everything. The whole property here is gorgeous. It’s, um, kind of why I asked to come along. To scout out areas that I could capture with my camera,” Harry admitted, eyes shining.

“Tell you what, when you don’t have heaps of work to do, we’ll ride out and you can take all the pictures you want. I can show you all the different spots that the butterflies gather. I can even make lunch,” Louis proposed, grimacing inside at the last suggestion because who was he kidding? His lunches were just simple sandwiches slapped together and Harry deserved better than that.

Harry’s small smile grew huge and he ducked his head. “Um, would it be just, um, just me and you?”

Shit, maybe Harry only wanted his company when the other lads were around. “We can certainly ask the other boys if they’d come along, but I was thinking you and me could go together alone, yeah,” Louis confessed, scratching the back of his neck.

Abruptly, Harry surged forward grabbing Louis’ hands, joining them together like he thought Louis might float away. “No, no, Lou, I--” Harry cut himself off, then surged on, “I’d like it to be just us two, yes. Please.”

Like Harry needed to plead. Louis would swim with sharks or move to Alaska if that’s what Harry wanted and that should’ve scared Louis, but it didn’t.

“‘Course, yeah. Of course, Harry.”

His hands were still wrapped in Harry’s. Neither of them moved from the touch.

“I could, like, be free tomorrow morning, if you’d want to do it then?”

“The boys should be fine without me for the first half of the day. Liam’s good with being in charge, so I reckon that should be great.” Louis nodded.

The crease between Harry’s brows smoothed out and the dazzling smile was back, his teeth biting into his plush bottom lip in an attempt to contain it. Louis mirrored his expression. They probably looked like idiots.

“So,” Harry drawled, eyes twinkling. Louis knew what that meant. “It’s a date, then.”

And, alright. Yeah. Louis could work with that. He could definitely work with that.

“Don’t get smug, Harold. I’ve heard it’s not smart for a boss to get involved with an employee.”

“And yet, here we are.” Harry smirked.

Louis smoothed his thumb over Harry’s hand. And then, Harry was bounding away, almost skipping up the steps of the porch in his ridiculous boots that Louis only now noticed had gold accents to them.

When he was behind the screen door he gave Louis a wink, eyes roaming over Louis’ figure, giggled and disappeared further into the house.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hazza and Lou are finally going on a date! I'm so excited to post the next chapter already! The fluff will be abundant. I'd love to hear what any of you think of the story so far. :)


	5. Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was especially fun to write. Feedback is appreciated! :)
> 
> Tumblr is andtheywerebandmates

In the morning the next day, Harry awoke with a start, excitement thrumming through his veins. Today was the day he’d go with Louis to all the best spots for photography. More importantly, it was a date. With Louis. Tomlinson. _Louis Tomlinson._

“Louis Tomlinson,” Harry whispered to Dusty, who was laying on a pillow next to his head. 

She blinked at him, sniffing at his cheek. He scrunched his nose at the tickle of her whiskers against his skin. 

“He has such a regal name, don’t you think?” Harry asked her. “He sure does look regal up on his horse. God, he’s gorgeous.” He threw an arm over his smiling face, embarrassed at how much of an effect Louis had on him, even when he wasn’t near. 

Dusty began to purr, and Harry nuzzled further into his warm cocoon of blankets, turning so he was facing his cat. 

“Louis Tomlinson and Harry Styles.” He smiled as he scratched behind Dusty’s ears. He pressed his lips to the top of her furry head, whispering, “Harry Tomlinson.”

Dusty looked up at him, meowing, her eyes big. Harry sighed. He knew he was being ridiculous, but it didn’t hurt to dream. 

Although uni had been a great time of learning and he’d got to meet some nice people, it had been a lonely time in his life. Between going to classes and trying to keep up on his homework, not allowing for himself to get any lower than B’s in his classes, it really hadn’t allowed him time to form any friendships. His flatmate had been a party animal, a slob, and way too often Harry would wake up from the loud noises of him having one night stands. There was one particularly uncomfortable incident that made Harry want to forget even going to uni and move back home. 

“I don’t get you, man. You’ve got all the bitches gawking at you, practically spreading their legs on the spot for you, and yet you only ever offer to walk them back to their dorms at night because, what? You want to make sure they’re safe?” He’d interrogated. 

“Guess you could say I’m just not a one night stand kind of guy,” Harry had replied, turning a page in his business book, trying to show he wasn’t into this conversation. 

“Bullshit. You’re in  _ uni, _ bro. Think of all the pussy you could get--”

“I don’t look at women like that, alright? They’re humans not sex toys!” Harry had exclaimed, glaring at his roommate. He hated the kind of derogatory terms Ben used. It disgusted him. 

“What are you fucking gay or summat?” Ben cackled.

“You don’t have to be gay to treat people with kindness and respect,” Harry had spat back. And that had been when Harry had cut off any further conversation by slamming his book shut and mumbling something about needing to go to the coffee shop. 

It had been unnerving--the whole situation. And while there were groups for queer people around campus, Harry hadn’t gotten the time to ever check them out. The classes he took were demanding and oftentimes he found himself to be too tired to socialize in a big group, preferring to spend the little free time he had sipping tea and watching telly or meditating and doing yoga to unwind. 

But he was home safe now, and the ranch hands were kind and gentle with him. None of them carried that vibe that he’d gotten from homophobic people like Ben. 

Harry laid in bed for a couple minutes more, knowing he had plenty of time to eat breakfast and get dressed, seeing as the sun was just beginning to rise from its slumber. The house was still quiet, save for the faint noise of Niall snoring from down the hall in his bedroom. Harry stretched in bed, arching his back, the bones popping. He was a bit sore from the ride yesterday, but he wouldn’t have had it any other way. Of course, he’d prefer if he was sore from another kind of riding but he’d take what he could get. There was something about having a good ache in his bones when he moved, his muscles protesting just the slightest after having been worked strenuously. Harry savored the feeling. 

He wondered if maybe he had actually dreamed of being able to wrap his arms around Louis’ toned waist yesterday, his hand fitting into Louis’ own lithe one. He’d had gone off to nap after Louis had dropped him off at the house, his mind swimming with images of the strong man, his thighs wrapped in those leather chaps, gentle, raspy voice echoing through his head, senses still high off of being able to breathe in his musky scent. 

Of course, Harry had woken up from a dream with his cock half-hard and his limbs aching to be touched. He’d been grateful at that moment that he had the house to himself so no one would be able to hear his needy whimpers or heavy, stunted breathing or the reverent whisper of Louis’ name as he’d brought himself to climax. 

He wondered now what Louis looked like sleeping, if the hard edges of his features went soft with sleep. 

“I’m hopeless, aren’t I, Dusty? A hopeless, sappy sap,” Harry scoffed, scooping Dusty up from her comfortable position to bring her outside with him. She yowled in complaint but Harry only hushed her with a peck on her soft head. 

Just as Harry turned from quietly closing his door, his eyes met those of Zayn’s, wide and alarmed. Harry furrowed his brow as he studied Zayn’s normally flawless complexion that was now ruddy, bare chest heaving and glistening in the faint light of morning. Harry was momentarily struck speechless at the sight of his sculpted torso.

“Um, I was just--Liam borrowed a shirt from me yesterday and I was getting it from him,” Zayn shrugged, standing outside Liam’s door, looking like he was itching to run away. 

Harry raised his eyebrows, glancing down at the rumpled top Zayn was gripping. “I see.” He smiled. 

“Um, well, I’m gonna go and get dressed. Get proper,” Zayn mumbled, walking off quicker than Harry had seen him walk yet. Normally, the lad just ambled around. 

Harry just kept smiling as Zayn shut his bedroom door behind him and set Dusty down before going to the bathroom to relieve himself. 

He chose to get dressed before heading to the kitchen, picking out a soft top with a pretty abstract pattern. Playing a bit with his long locks he tied a blue silk headband around his head, the color reminding him of Louis’ gorgeous eyes. Once he was satisfied with how he looked, making sure not to be overdressed, he remembered that Louis had reminded him to wake Niall up with the nursery rhyme. 

Trying to hold in a giddy laugh, he slipped over the hardwood floors in his socks to Louis’ door. Hesitating before opening the door, he knocked once, not wanting to disturb his  _ date _ before they’d even had a chance to go out. After a few moments of silence, worry began to take over his mind and he played with the hem of his shirt, shuffling on his feet, debating whether to just barge in or to forget the prank altogether. 

While he was still arguing with himself in the hallway, Louis had walked up behind him, soft steps not alerting Harry. 

_ “Hazza, _ what are you doing?” Louis’ raspy voice dragged the words out, mock suspicion clear in his tone. 

Harry jumped almost a foot in the air, turning so quickly he elbowed Louis in the stomach. “Oh my god, I am so sorry, Lou. Are you alright?” 

“Dandy, Harold. Just dandy,” Louis coughed, clutching his stomach. 

In his haste to make Louis feel better, Harry placed a gentle hand on Louis’ stomach, not considering how much worse he was making the whole situation. 

Louis’ eyes met Harry’s and they stared at each other for a beat before Harry ripped his hand from the man’s stomach. 

“Sorry, I’m--um, I’m sorry,” he stuttered, stepping away. 

“If you tell me why you’re standing outside my door talking to yourself like a madman, maybe I’ll forgive you,” Louis joked, his sparkling eyes betraying his stern expression, hand still rubbing his stomach. 

“I remembered how you wanted to, um, prank Niall and was going to remind you, but you weren’t answering the door and I was getting a bit worried. Because in these situations, I don’t know if I’m supposed to--”

“Harry, relax, god, I’m not actually mad at you or anything,” Louis soothed, placing a steady hand on Harry’s arm. “I was out taking care of some things in advance so the boys wouldn’t have so much to do this morning without me. You know it’s a bummer really that you didn’t wake up earlier. You could’ve seen me in my pants.”

And at that, Louis walked backward into his bedroom, smirk plastered on his face, disappearing behind the bedroom door. Harry stood stunned in the hallway, eyes wide and glued to the door, not knowing if he should or even  _ could _ move.

Louis flung the door open again, this time carrying a retro boom box Harry hadn’t seen the likes of in ages, pushing Harry to walk alongside him with a hand placed on his back. “Also a shame for me too, ‘cause I could’ve seen  _ you _ in  _ your _ pants.” 

Harry’s stomach did an array of flips that could outshine any olympian gymnast. He didn’t have time to ask for any clarification because Louis was quickly shoving a tape into the old boombox that looked like it had a thick layer of dust on it, and burst through Niall’s door. Harry followed him, watching with wide eyes as Louis placed the boombox right on Niall’s pillow, his ear just touching the surface of one of the speakers. 

“One, two, three,” Louis whispered, and on the count of three, he pressed play with a flourish. 

Louis grinned devilishly as the first few notes blasted through the speakers and Niall cried out, lifting his head from his face being squished into his pillow and clutching his ears. Harry watched, fascinated as Louis’ whole face lit up, head thrown back, laughing heartily as Niall let out a string of expletives. Louis started singing along with the old nursery rhyme in a terrible screeching rendition of it. 

_ “Louis!” _ Niall shouted, dragging out the name. “You bugger! Ya fucking twat! Sorry fucking excuse for a sodding adult.”

Niall had woken up completely now, limbs fighting to get out from under the covers, the song playing ear piercingly loud as the ranch hand made a move to fling himself at Louis. 

“Abort mission!” Louis shouted, grabbing Harry’s hand and pulling him out as Niall stumbled after them, face red and hair in complete disarray. 

Both Louis and Harry were in a fit of giggles as Louis pulled them into his bedroom. Harry placed a hand on the wall, steadying himself as bouts of laughter erupted from him. The euphoria of being included in such a mischievous endeavor was only heightened as Louis was leaning against Harry’s shoulder, invading his space, his natural smell that Harry felt was the purest, strongest kind of drug mixing with sweet puffs of air that Louis let out between giggles. 

“Bloody hell, I haven’t seen him that red in the face since the time he tried to ride Queen Freddie drunk and tore his pants while falling off,” Louis snorted, wiping at his eyes. 

Stunned, Harry’s jaw dropped and he stood up straight, looking at Louis. “You mean to tell me that he tried to ride  _ my cow, _ the  _ queen _ of this farm?”

Louis burst out laughing again. “Oi, don’t look so offended, Harry. We were absolutely wasted. He meant no disrespect to her.”

Folding his arms across his chest, Harry frowned, feeling it was his job to defend his precious cow. “She is  _ my first child. _ I helped  _ deliver her. _ I  _ named her. _ I will be as offended as I want.”

Louis hummed, playing with the collar on Harry’s blouse, adjusting and re-adjusting it. Harry might’ve been more distracted by the attention if it hadn’t been for the disbelief he was experiencing at hearing what Louis and Niall had gotten up to.

“Terrible name choice, by the way. Too long,” Louis commented, shaking his head, an amused grin on his face. 

Gasping, Harry placed a hand on his chest, adding a dramatic flair to his slight shock. “I beg your pardon? That name is fit for royalty, which she is, for your information, Lewis.”

Louis shook his head, eyes crinkling. Harry could tell he was trying not to laugh. Since Louis wasn’t retaliating Harry continued on, indignantly. “Are you implying that the next time I have a child I just hand it off after going through hours of labor and let it’s other father choose the name without even consulting me about it?” 

Louis’ eyes snapped to Harry’s where they were previously fixated on the patterns swirling on Harry’s blouse. 

Panic filled Harry. He’d blown it. Had found a kind man that was funny and intelligent, as well as good looking, and he’d just opened his mouth and probably ruined it all. Though men being able to bear children wasn’t unheard of, it wasn’t something you would talk about to just anyone. Harry had learned from the classes he’d had to take in primary school and all the way up to uni that his peers thought that male pregnancy was one of the funniest things on planet earth. There had even been a young lad, not much older than Harry, in secondary school who’d had to endure the painful teasing caused by his classmates due to the fact he’d gotten pregnant, and judging by the grimace he constantly wore, it had been unplanned. Harry didn’t understand it at all, was the thing. He had wanted a baby so bad ever since he was little, loving to play House and always stealing Gemma’s baby dolls from her room, because the thought of being able to raise and care for an innocent, little human that he’d grown inside himself was so exhilarating to him. He just couldn’t wap his head around why it should be something to be ashamed of. Needless to say, he was both terrified and delighted when at 14 he’d hit puberty, gone to the doctor for a normal check up, and had learned he was able to carry a baby in his very own tummy. 

But Louis wasn’t Harry and he didn’t know if Louis even liked kids and he’d just thrown out, in the heat of trying to come up with the sassiest comeback, that he was very much capable of bearing children and desired to do so.

Harry’s eyes darted around the room, anywhere but Louis’ eyes that were boring straight into him. He looked down, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt, wanting to escape, maybe cry, and possibly move to Japan where he could become a monk and never be found again. 

Louis’ fingertips pressed under Harry’s chin with featherlight softness, urging Harry to return his gaze. Lifting his head, Harry braced himself for the look of disgust he expected. Instead, he found something much too strong to only be considered fondness swirling in the deep blue of the other man’s eyes. 

“I reckon, if you’re going to be keeping a little one all safe and warm inside your stomach for nine months, it’d only be fair if you were the name giver, yeah?” Louis almost whispered, voice light and soft like the fabric of silk sheets that Harry loved to lay on on days where he felt self-indulgent. 

“Reckon so, yeah,” Harry breathed.

He wanted to cry, still, but it wasn’t from panicking anymore. Louis was giving him one of the tenderest smiles he’d ever seen and the pads of his fingertips were swirling circles over the skin of his neck, causing his whole body to break out into goosebumps. 

Louis’ smile widened and his hand trailed down to wrap around Harry’s own limp one. “We’d better get on our date, don’t you think? Don’t want to miss out on the beautiful sights of nature.”

Harry nodded, wordlessly following Louis out of his room. In reality, he knew nothing he captured outside with his camera could come close to the beauty that lay within Louis’ heart, which he’d been lucky enough to catch a glimpse of just now. 

\------------------------------------------------------------------

Exploring nature with Louis was unlike any experience Harry had ever had before. Louis was loud, everyone knew that, but Harry felt lucky--privileged--that he was getting a chance to see another side of Louis that was quieter, more considerate, and thoughtful. Not that he wasn’t a caring person all of the time, but it seemed that he was taking on the job of controlling his volume and otherwise emphatic movements he used in normal conversation extremely seriously because he knew if he was his usual, spontaneous self he’d be scaring away the birds, butterflies, and other little creatures that went hopping around beside the young men’s horses as they rode down the trails, thus ruining any chances Harry could get to photograph them.

They conversed in low murmurs, Harry often stopping them to dismount on the trail and try different angles to capture whatever live animal had caught his eye. Louis remained patient, actually seeming like he was enjoying himself, dismounting with Harry and stifling laughter as best he could when Harry bent in strange stances for a perfect angle. 

“What’s that one called, Hazza?” Louis muttered, referring to the little bird that was clinging to the bark of a tree near the trail. 

“It’s a goldfinch,” Harry answered, face pressed to his camera, crouched in a precarious position. 

Harry suddenly felt two strong hands wrap under his arm pits, pulling him back to steady him against the front of what Harry guessed was Louis' legs. His bum was now resting on Louis’ boots.

“So you don’t topple over, love” Louis explained, warm breath caressing his cheek as Louis crouched down to whisper in his ear. 

Heart rabbiting at the pet name and breath hitching at the touch, Harry closed his eyes savoring the sensation of Louis pressing his nose to Harry’s cheek and dragging it up along the side of his face into his curls until he was resting his chin on Harry’s head. He wondered if his curls were tickling his date’s face, if Louis was scrunching his nose. 

Moving his hands from under Harry’s pits, Louis was now softly running them up and down his sides and Harry prayed he couldn’t feel the thunder of his heart. Unsteadily, he lifted the camera and tried to focus his lens on the bird again. It was an accomplishment that Harry could even lift his arms, his body screaming at him to melt into the gentle caresses he was being spoiled with that hadn’t ceased. 

After snapping the first photo, he was aiming to take another one, not even aware if the first one had turned out alright, when Louis’ thumbs flicked his nipples lightly over the fabric of his top. His body pulled taught, the touch unexpected. Feeling Louis bend farther down to rest his nose in the crook of his neck, letting his lips rest just so on Harry’s skin that was beginning to flush, Harry let his camera hang down from its neck strap, losing strength in his arms. Louis had stopped his ministrations, but chuckled breathily before swiping his thumbs down this time. 

“S-sensitive,” Harry stuttered out, not having the willpower to give Louis more of a warning to stop.

If Louis didn’t stop his teasing, Harry knew he’d be sporting an awkward hard-on soon.  

“Mm, I noticed,” was all that came as a reply, Louis dragging his lips along overheated skin to rest his nose on the side of Harry’s face. 

And then Harry felt hands grip him under the arms and pull him to his feet. 

“Gonna take you to see the butterflies, now, love,” was all that Louis said before walking back to where both horses were waiting. 

Dumbly, Harry watched the older man mount his horse and then sprung into action, stumbling to White Eskimo. It took him a few tries to get his foot in the stirrup and he almost flung himself over the other side of the saddle in his effort to get his shaking leg up and over the back of his western saddle. 

It was ridiculous that a few touches from Louis could wind him up so much, make him so eager to get his hands back on him. It should’ve scared him how much he wanted the other man’s hands on him, even if for just a moment. 

Apparently, Louis thought Harry hadn’t suffered enough and taunted him gently by saying, “Having trouble straddling him, eh?” 

Resisting the urge to let out a frustrated groan, Harry’s whole body flushed, knowing Louis saw his unsteady movements. 

Louis moved Rogue into a brisk walk, Harry urging White Eskimo to do the same so they were riding side by side. 

“I don’t normally ride western. English saddles don’t have such large backs to them, you know?”

“Oh, that’s right, you were a posh english jumper back in the day,” Louis smirked, raising his brow at Harry briefly. 

Harry knew he must’ve gotten his information from the pictures of him his parents had proudly hung up on the walls of their home. 

“Yeah, but I’ve ridden plenty in a western saddle,” he answered, hoping he really was as good as he thought. 

When Louis didn’t answer, only glancing briefly at him time and again as a few moments passed, Harry became impatient for some reassurance. “Well, what do you think? I mean, do you think I’m, like, a good rider?” 

Louis met his gaze, eyes flashing with something that made Harry’s insides twist up. “Really good,” he drawled in his raspy voice, corners of his mouth turned up in a sly grin. 

The admission and the fact Louis wasn’t looking away from where Harry’s arse was seated in the deep western saddle made his heart beat faster. 

“Although, I’d have to see you  _ really _ ride to accurately judge you, you know?”

Harry stared at Louis, trying to decipher if Louis meant for his words to encourage the dirty thoughts his mind was conjuring up now. 

“If I’d have to critique anything right now,” Louis continued, "I’d say sit deeper in the saddle and really let your hips  _ roll _ with each movement. I know you're used to riding in an english saddle, but western riding is all about feeling your body and your core flow with and lean into each movement. Like you’re one with what’s underneath you.”

The younger man swallowed hard, skin heating up so much he was starting to feel little beads of sweat line his forehead underneath his curls and headscarf. 

“Um, yeah, I-I understand. Yeah,” he added, dumbly. 

He glanced at Louis every few seconds. The problems was, he wanted relief from the blush that had taken over his whole body, but the addicting sight of Louis sitting confidently in his saddle and smugly grinning at him while Harry was practically having an aneurysm was not allowing him to.

After a few moments of silence, Louis picked up his reins and urged his horse into a trot, Harry following after him. 

“The bushes where the butterflies are, are just around the bend. It’s a massive group of them. It’ll blow your mind,” Louis said. 

They soon rounded a bend and there was a small clearing where the two men stopped their horses, taking in the view. Harry’s eyes bugged out of his head, mouth opening into a little ‘o’ as he was met with the sight of what must’ve been dozens upon dozens of butterflies flitting around, going from bush to bush. 

He dismounted, not taking his eyes off of the breathtaking sight. The horses were trained to stand wherever their owners left them so neither Louis nor Harry had to worry about them going off.

Stepping forward into a little cluster of bushes, he felt Louis’ presence next to him. 

“Wow,” he whispered. 

Louis chuckled. “Told you.”

Harry lifted his camera up, looking through the lens to take a simple shot of the butterflies and the flowered bushes strewn around the field they’d stopped in. He began to maneuver through the area, snapping pictures of the brilliantly colored butterflies from different angles. 

When he turned around he saw Louis looking up, smiling happily at a butterfly that was taking his time flying over his head. He quickly snapped a photo and Louis looked down when he felt the pair of eyes on him. 

“None of that, Harry,” Louis laughed, stepping toward Harry and placing a hand on Harry’s arm and his camera, gently pushing it down from his face. 

“Why not?” Harry whined, eyebrows drawn together. 

“‘M not a butterfly, silly. I didn’t take you all the way here to take boring pictures of plain, old me,” Louis chuckled. 

Harry looked at him, feeling indignant for the other man. How could such a beautiful person say such things about himself? Nothing was more captivating than his shining, blue eyes that glinted in the sun and his dazzling smile that made Harry’s heart melt. Everything about Louis was lovely, right down to his cute, defined nose and thin, light pink lips that Harry so desperately wanted to taste. 

He fidgeted with his camera, looking down. “Might as well be a butterfly,” he mumbled. 

Louis’ thumb caressed the bare skin on his bicep. “What was that, love?”

Harry huffed, frustrated that Louis somehow couldn’t see that he was entirely the opposite of boring and plain. “I  _ said, _ you might as well be a butterfly. Like, see what those butterflies are doing?”

“Yes?” Louis nodded his head, glancing to where Harry was pointing to two butterflies circling round each other in the air.  

“Well, like, you, um, you make me feel like I have butterflies doing that to me,” Harry said, lifting his shirt up to expose his stomach, “right in here.”

Louis’ eyes widened as Harry took the hand that was previously resting on Harry’s bicep, and placed it on his stomach. 

“You’re like my own personal butterfly giver. If that makes any sense,” he tacked on, because he knew it really didn’t, but the younger man had never experienced having someone be so gentle with him, so caring, and Harry was finding it hard to articulate his attraction.

Harry watched Louis’ finely shaped fingers spread out over his stomach, fingertips brushing over the lines of the butterfly tattoo. The feeling of Louis’ warm hand just feeling out Harry’s stomach and the mesmerized look in his eyes made Harry’s breath hitch, his slight stomach muscles tensing under the weight of Louis’ hand. 

“Quite fitting you have a butterfly on your stomach isn’t it, then, hm?” Louis asked, finally looking back up into Harry’s eyes. 

“S’pose so,” Harry chuckled, ducking his head, shyly.

While Louis kept his gaze on Harry’s eyes, Harry felt his fingertips trail down and dip just below the tight waistband of his jeans. He inhaled sharply and Louis raised his eyebrows at him, gaze piercing.

“Take your shirt off,” Louis demanded, abruptly, hands now removed from Harry. 

“Huh?” Harry asked, taken aback by the sudden command.

“Take your shirt off and sit down. I want to try something,” Louis clarified, gently pulling the neck strap that Harry’s camera was hanging from over his head. 

Harry just looked at him, brain short-circuiting and knees turning to jelly at the confident tone and choice of words Louis had used. 

“Go on, then, love,” Louis encouraged, nodding his head toward Harry. 

The pet name seemed to have flipped a switch in his brain because his arms went into action, unbuttoning his top and unsteadily falling to his arse on the soft, grassy ground. 

The view from here was different, the smell of the flowers strong as they were surrounding him and a butterfly flew from one bush to another right in front of him. 

Harry heard the snap of a shutter and looked to see Louis kneeling in front of him, camera lowered, smiling at him. 

“Thought I was the photographer here?” Harry asked, jokingly, trying to hide the suffocating attraction he felt towards his date.  

Louis moved into his space, gently pulling Harry’s headband off. He moved gracefully in front of Harry’s crossed legs, the proximity of their faces making Harry gasp quietly as Louis pulled his hair onto his shoulders a bit. 

“‘Course you are, but I like playing around with things, even if I’m shit at it.” He carded his fingers through Harry’s hair again, giving the younger man a full body shiver. 

Harry’s eyes closed, leaning into the touches. It had been so long since he’d had someone touch him so gingerly like this, yet with absolute control. It had also been a long time since he’d been able to sit exposed in front of someone. He was starving for more, and it seemed Louis knew exactly how to give it to him just the way he needed it. He felt Louis’ breath on his lips before the warm air disappeared completely and he opened his eyes to see Louis a few feet back, already holding up the camera to take a shot.  

Harry looked at the lens with half-lidded eyes, not even paying trying to pose, too easily affected by the previous touches he’d been spoilt with. Louis took the shot and looked down at the little screen to study his work, while Harry struggled against the urge to just climb into Louis’ lap and kiss him senseless. 

Louis got up again, not even giving Harry a second glance, and Harry pouted up at him as he pulled on his shirt. 

“Think you’ve been on the wrong side of the camera this whole time.” Louis smirked as he put the camera strap back around Harry’s neck once Harry had stood up.

The younger man was still trying to compose himself, embarrassed that he was so wound up after so little was done. For fuck’s sake, they hadn’t even kissed and Harry had been fearful he’d get a hard on right amongst the butterflies. 

“You hungry, Harry?” Louis asked, Harry meeting his eyes after brushing his jeans off. 

“Now that you mention it, I am actually a bit hungry, yeah.” Harry nodded his head. 

“Wait here, I’ll be right back,” Louis instructed and scurried away, leaving Harry to snap a couple more photos of the beauty that surrounded him. 

Before long, Louis came running back, grin splitting his face, carrying a blanket and some parcels that must’ve been stored in his saddle bags. He let out a boisterous laugh and grabbed Harry’s hand, pulling him along as they raced through the field of butterfly bushes, the winged creatures floating around them. Harry looked all around him as he followed the man in front of him, hand safely engulfed in his, in awe at the beauty of being in a whirlwind of green shrubbery and yellow and orange butterflies, being led to some place by a captivating man. 

Louis slowed down once they had reached a place shaded by a few small trees, some flowered bushes nearby that a few cosmopolitans were resting on. “Here, wonderful Harry, is where we shall dine,” Louis spoke in a dramatic voice, letting the parcels drop and throwing out the light blanket so it billowed in the air and flowed down to meet the ground. 

Harry looked at Louis, eyes wide with wonder. 

“Come on, then, sit,” Louis urged, pulling Harry down by their still linked hands. 

Harry sat down next to him, smiling so hard his cheeks hurt. With a flourish, Louis produced sandwiches stuffed to the brim with meat and vegetables and a variety of cheese from the parcels. Harry felt his heart fill with extreme fondness as he watched the other man pull crisps, grapes, strawberries, and beer from the other parcels, realizing Louis had thought this all out before they had left the house. 

“You’re amazing,” Harry said, dazed as he looked into Louis’ shining eyes. 

“I think the same about you,” Louis admitted, poking Harry’s nose gently. 

Harry scrunched his nose and ducked his head shyly. “Did-did you prepare all of this?”

“God, no. I wouldn’t subject you to my awful cooking. I bought the sandwiches and beer, and, well, fruit is pretty easy to wash, so that I  _ did _ prepare, I s’pose,” Louis shrugged. 

Harry just kept looking at him, studying his sharp profile as he set out the food on the blanket in a gentle manner. 

“Well, if you’re not going to feed yourself, guess I’ll have to do it meself, hm?” Louis raised his eyebrows at Harry, presenting one of the sandwiches in front of Harry’s mouth. 

He hesitantly took a bite, letting out a soft moan at the flavors that filled his mouth. Laughing softly, Louis picked up a big red strawberry and presented that to Harry next. He accepted the fruit happily, closing his eyes briefly, feeling relaxed with his legs stretched out before him and his mouth being filled with scrumptious food. 

When Louis had taken a bite of his own sandwich and was chewing silently, Harry popped a grape in his mouth, saying, “No bananas?”

He grinned at the sight of Louis letting out a hearty laugh, eyes crinkling at the corners. 

“No, not for you,” Louis said, once his laughter had subsided, pushing his arse back so he could lean against the tree that their blanket was laid under. 

Nudging his own boots off first, Harry then took it upon himself to pull Louis’ off next and crawled up next to him. “Why not?” he asked, pouting. 

“You very well know why, you tease,” Louis laughed, taking another bite of his sandwich. 

Was it silly to be jealous of food? Harry didn’t know, but he  _ did _ know he wanted all of Louis’ attention on him, frustrated that he was being upstaged by bloody bread and meat. 

“Is it possibly because,” Harry drawled, gently straddling Louis, noticing Louis slowly looking up from where he was picking at a few hanging pieces of meat, “it’s distracting to you?”

Louis let his head rest against the rough bark of the tree, Harry delighting in seeing and feeling his eyes devour the sight of Harry sitting right atop his lap. Something seemed to change in his eyes and Louis bit into his sandwich again, munching nonchalantly.

“Are you trying to seduce me, Harry?” he asked, looking at him out of the corner of his eyes. 

“No. I already seduced you with my curls.” He pulled off his headscarf and shook out his shoulder length hair with his hand. “And, anyway, you didn’t answer my question.”

“Bit pushy, are we?” Louis laughed. 

“Bit reluctant to answer, are we?” Harry countered, cocking his head.

Louis’ eyebrows shot up and he put his sandwich down. “Bit sore about the fact I didn’t bring a banana for you to deepthroat, are we?”

Harry let out a gasp, both at the snarky words and Louis actually gripping his thighs that were still bracketing Louis’ own. It wasn’t any secret that he’d taken many opportunities to catch Louis’ eye by wrapping his lips around a banana and pushing it into his mouth, but to say it out loud, so bluntly, well--Harry felt he’d been exposed.

“Yeah, well. . .it was all for you, so. . .you should feel honored,” he said, crossing his arms, not even caring that he was being so careless about revealing how much he really was into the other man. 

“Oh, I should feel honored, hm? Would you like an award for being so generous to me?” Louis asked, fingers now working circles on Harry’s thighs. 

Harry inched up a bit on Louis’ strong thighs, fingers reaching to play with the buttons on Louis’ shirt. He studied them, dropping his head slightly, feeling a bit shy about what he was about to say. “No, but I  _ would _ like a kiss, please.”

He looked up as he felt one of Louis’ hands wrap around his neck and toy with the hair at the back of his neck. Louis’ eyes were soft and he licked his lips, making Harry feel a rush of anticipation. 

“Well,” Louis began, tucking Harry’s hair behind his ear, “since you asked so nicely.”

And Harry inhaled softly, head tilting, eyes closing as Louis leaned up to press his soft, thin lips against Harry’s own fuller ones. 

They both let out soft moans, Louis’ other hand now sliding into Harry’s hair, fingernails softly grazing his scalp. If Harry thought he was in awe of the butterflies, this feeling was something else entirely too much for his body to handle. The gentle, but insistent press of Louis’ lips against his, the taste of sandwiches and fruit, which otherwise wouldn’t be enticing was making him want to draw Louis in even closer, the smell of Louis’ cologne and natural musk filling his nostrils--it was all so much and yet not enough. He placed his hands on Louis’ shoulders, gripping them as Louis licked into his mouth, teasingly, and then pulled back, his bottom lip caught between Louis’ teeth. 

Harry sluggishly opened his eyes and Louis leaned back against the tree, eyes blown and seemingly filled with the same awe that Harry knew he was looking at Louis with. He let his hands trail down to join against the small of Harry’s back, drawing him in closer to steal another kiss. 

“So pretty,” Louis whispered against the younger man’s lips. 

Harry let out another soft moan, eyes closing again as he felt Louis’ lips meet his, yet again, for another kiss, this time letting their tongues slide along each other, tasting and licking. Harry didn’t think before he nudged up further, and both men let out sounds of pleasure as their groins rubbed against each other. 

He made a noise of protest as Louis pulled away from him. 

“Fuck, Harry, we’ve got to stop,” he said, voice rougher than usual.

“Why?” Harry asked, smoothing his hand over the soft skin of Louis’ cheek. 

Louis laughed airily. “Because if we don’t, I don’t think I’ll have enough self-control to pull meself away at all, love.”

“I’d like you to lose control with me,” Harry blurted. 

“God, the things you say.” Louis smiled, a bit in disbelief, thumbs stroking over Harry’s love handles.

“Do you like the things I say?” Harry asked.

“‘Course I do, but they drive me  _ insane. _ You with your curls and your supermodel legs and your ridiculous boots you trip on and your pretty lips that I want to kiss until they’re even redder than they already are--fuck, Harry, I like you and your ridiculous mouth so much it’s driving me crazy,” Louis admitted. 

Harry’s heart felt like it could burst with it pounding so hard against his ribcage. He took Louis’ rough hand into his own. “And I quite like you with your spiky hair and your strong legs and your chaps and your pretty, pink lips, too.”

They both grinned at each other then, taking in the tenderness of the moment and the confessions uttered. Harry nudged his nose against Louis’ and they chuckled at how silly they were being, both too caught up in their attraction to each other to care. 

After a few minutes, Harry slid partially off Louis to rest his head against Louis’ shoulder, one leg still resting on Louis, both resuming their early lunch with Harry snapping pictures every now and again of both the surroundings  _ and _ Louis, despite his protests. 

When they were packing up to go home again, Louis still needing to join the boys for the rest of the day’s work, Louis stopped and cocked his head, looking at Harry curiously. 

“What?” Harry asked, once he’d noticed Louis standing still.

“Why do you like my chaps?”

Harry blushed furiously, quickly picking up a brisk walk to where the horses were waiting still. “Um, that’s, well, that’s a secret,” he replied, mounting White Eskimo and urging him on, Louis hot on his trail. 

  
  



	6. Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, another update so soon? I barely even know myself anymore. I wrote this whole thing in one night, be proud of me.  
> This chapter is really fucking silly and Harry makes his place known in the house as The Baby of the group. Louis already owns the dramatic hoe position. I was so sleep deprived while writing this I was laughing until there were the beginnings of tears in my eyes. 
> 
> Anyway, I had fun with this chapter and I hope you all have fun reading it too!
> 
> find me on tumblr: andtheywerebandmates

(Harry’s POV)

It had been a few days since Louis and Harry’s first date and the affection that was shown during their blissful time together hadn’t stopped--if anything it had increased. The other men had noticed. Liam made cheeky remarks every now and then, and Niall would not-so-subtly push them into situations that caused them to become physically closer. Zayn would stare at them with a knowing smirk on his face, only stopping once Louis would throw whatever nearby soft object was in the vicinity at his face.  

Harry would be lying if he said he didn’t like the teasing that the ranch hands made them both endure. Because that meant it was apparent, obvious, to other people how much they liked each other, and since Louis came under attack for how gentle he’d become around Harry and how he’d always laugh at his terrible jokes when everyone else groaned about it, Harry was reassured that the feelings were mutual. 

Even with all of this, Harry still worried that maybe he wasn’t what Louis wanted, since they’d never made anything official. They’d gone out on some rides together, Louis had helped Harry wash Queen Freddie, and Louis pulled Harry out of the office a couple nights in a row so he could help feed the farm animals. 

Every moment they’d spent together felt like uncovering something intimate that Harry had been missing out on all these years. Being close to Louis made his heart hurt in the best way possible, but he hadn’t worked up the courage to ask Louis whether they were boyfriends or just really affectionate buddies who both happened to be single and gay and overly affectionate and had really enjoyed a snogging session under a tree. That was another thing, Louis hadn’t initiated a kiss again after their date that one day. This made Harry pissed, of course, because how could Louis deprive him of the heavenly experience he’d had when they’d kissed? It was unfair, and it made Harry wild with the need to make Louis so fucking thirsty for him that he’d have no choice but to kiss him senseless. 

And maybe give him a baby, but Harry didn’t want to get ahead of himself.     

Currently, it was a squelching hot day, rather unusual weather in England, but Harry wasn’t complaining since Louis had pulled off his shirt, after the men had gotten back from the pastures to have the lunch that Harry had made for them. In fact, all of the ranch hands were lounging around on the picnic table set up on the grassy area nearby the house shirtless, shining with a layer of sweat and grime and Harry had never felt more gay or prone to giving in to what his sister called his “inner hoe” in his life. This had come about when she’d seen him flirt with and grind on several men relentlessly at the gay bar he had dragged her to. 

Needless to say, she’d refused to go out with him to any gay bars again.

Harry kept looking up from where he was weeding the little vegetable garden next to the house to ogle them (mostly Louis), eyes blessed with the glimpses of their arses (Louis’ arse) whenever one of them would lean across the table to grab more food.

Harry chuckled to himself, watching the men as some disagreement had arisen, and Louis suddenly grabbed the large bowl that he’d put the fruit salad with whipped cream in and clutched it to his chest, hopping a few feet away from the table. 

“It’s mine!” He shrieked in a distressed tone, glaring at all of the men. 

“Louis, you already had, like, three bowls of that, just let me have a little before you devour it all, for god’s sake,” Niall all but whined from his seat. 

“You don’t deserve it, not after you rammed into me with your horse. I mean, really, Niall you’ve been riding for, what, your whole life? Don’t you think you should know by now how to properly direct your horse  _ around _ me, not  _ into _ me,” Louis grumbled, pointing at Niall with a spoon, promptly stuffing more fruit salad into his mouth.

“You know, I’d like to have some, too, Louis. Liam would, too, I’m sure,” Zayn piped up, hand casually stroking through Liam’s hair. 

“It wasn't on purpose and I already apologized. It’s not my fault you’re acting so sore over a tiny incident,” Niall defended himself, talking over Zayn mid-sentence. 

Harry was in stitches over the whole scene, laughing amongst the vegetables and weeds, and trying to decipher what they were all saying as they had a habit of talking all at once. Louis looked so indignant over the whole situation, standing alone, away from the table, a small powerhouse so full of force and volume that none of the men even attempted to take away the bowl from him, even as short as he was. He looked ridiculous, his bare, fit torso on display, hugging a large bowl to his golden skin as he angrily plowed more salad into his mouth, chewing defiantly, a grim expression on his stupidly handsome face.

“I’m acting sore about it, because I am  _ literally _ sore! You fucking charged into me leg, you twat!” Louis exclaimed.

Harry’s laughter subsided as he studied how Louis was favoring his left leg, eyebrows scrunching up, wishing he could pull Louis over to where he was, sit him down, and massage the pain away. 

“You sure you’re not sore because of something else, Louis? Or should I say  _ someone _ else,” Liam joked, Niall’s cackles following right after. 

Harry’s whole body flushed, not missing how Liam and Zayn were shooting him smirks. Niall was sitting on the bench that faced away from him, but from the sounds and sight of his hunched back, Harry could tell he was getting a kick out of the remark as well.

Louis shot him a look, shaking his head that said “can you believe these idiots” and made his way around the other side of the table, stopping behind Liam’s back. 

“You want some salad, Liam, hm?” Louis asked, a devilish grin on his face. 

Harry let out a honking laugh as Liam’s face contorted into shock as Louis slapped the handful of cream and fruit he’d grabbed from the bowl onto the front of Liam’s face. Niall’s laughter turned uproarious and Zayn just stared on in shock. 

“Sweet, sweet revenge,” Louis cried. 

Locking eyes with Harry, Louis licked all the remaining whipped cream off of his fingers, sucking each one all the way into his mouth, cheeks hollowing, eyes glinting sinfully. Harry’s laughter died and his eyes widened, Louis giving him a sly grin as he set the salad back on the table. 

“Should’ve expected that,” Liam sighed, letting out a chuckle. 

“Here let me help you, babe,” Zayn cooed, picking up a napkin and wetting it before helping to wipe off the food from his face.

Harry focused back on his work, the action dying down as the hands settled down into eating again, the drama forgotten because, really, it was all playful. He wondered where Louis was headed off to as he pulled his boots back on, the man walking around barefoot before. Turning back to his weeding, Harry hummed to himself, choosing not to stare like a creep at Louis as he had headed in the direction of the barn.

Harry’s own stomach grumbled though after a few minutes passed and he couldn’t resist a sweet, bright red tomato that hung heavy and ripe from it’s stem. Plucking it and standing up from where he was kneeling, he bit into it, humming as the flavors bursted on his tongue. He turned to see Louis back from the barn, now holding a lariat and swinging it over his head before casting it so it caught on the fence post of the pasture that was set near their table, the one Queen Freddie was walking lazily around in. 

As he chewed on his tomato, Harry was entranced by the bulge of Louis’ bicep flexing every time he swung the loop of the lariat over his head, the flick of his petite, strong wrist continuing the motion. His eyes trailed down to gaze at Louis’ toned waist, abs rippling and skin stretching taut over his ribcage as he casted the rope over the fence post again. The shining muscles of his body all tensing and the aggression and strength with which he pulled on the course rope to cause the loop of the lariat to tighten round the wood and the determined set of his sharp jaw caused Harry to forget he had to swallow, a dribble of tomato juice escaping his mouth, which he hurriedly brushed away.

After pulling the rope back to himself, Louis flicked his mussed fringe out of his face and turned his body to Harry, catching him off guard. He smirked, noticing how Harry startled out of his reverie and began swinging the lariat over his head again. The noises of the other lads chatting over their lunch, oblivious to the pair that were wrapped up in each other, fell away as Harry took in Louis’ focused stare on him. Walking closer to Harry in lazy strides, body glistening in the sun, Louis cast the loop in Harry’s direction. Harry promptly lost all cohesive thought, causing him to drop his half-eaten tomato as the loop gracefully fell over him and Louis tugged to tighten it to a biting grip around Harry’s waist. He let out something akin to a whine as Louis’ sharp eyes pierced into him.

When Harry felt the first tug of the rope, he was confused, but quickly followed the pull, Louis not letting up his grip on the other end of the rope, reeling the taller man in. The most self-satisfied, cheeky grin Harry had ever seen broke out on Louis’ face as Harry came closer and closer until he was yanked roughly into Louis’ arms, skin breaking out into a feverish sweat as Louis held him in a vice like grip with one arm, other arm still clutching the lariat. The combined pressure of the rope around his sensitive skin and the possession with which Louis was gripping him had Harry almost panting, feeling heady with the way Louis surrounded him.

“Caught you,” Louis murmured, still staring at Harry like he was going to devour him any moment. 

Harry really,  _ really _ wanted him to. 

“Didn’t need a rope to do that,” Harry managed to get out.

“Mm, but you like it, don’t you?” Louis stated more than asked.

As if his words weren’t enough to get Harry worked up, he tightened and manipulated the rope so it was biting even more into Harry’s skin, and Harry gasped, sure his eyes were dark with apparent lust, and clutched at Louis’ soft skin with weak fingers, pleasure and pain blurring together just the way he liked it. He was grateful at that moment that Louis had walked a little ways away from where the other men were and that Louis’ back was concealing anything that was happening with Harry’s waist. He didn’t really want everyone to know he had a serious pain kink and Louis had him wrapped around his finger so tightly that he could get him worked up with just a few clever moves. 

The way Louis was studying his face and the expressions shown on it, like it was the most important thing in the world, made Harry weak. Louis leaned up a bit, mouth grazing Harry’s ear. 

“It’s not polite to stare,” Louis whispered, referring to the unabashed ogling Harry had done for the duration of lunch. 

Quicker than Harry had time to process, Louis had lifted the loop from around Harry and strutted off without another look, leaving Harry with a stiffy and skin flushed so bright he was sure he looked exactly like his forgotten tomato. 

“Get back to work, boys, we don’t have all day,” Louis shouted, clapping his hands and making his way back to the barn, plump arse framed perfectly by the opening in his chaps. 

Harry stormed to the house, cursing the world, and his easily affected dick, but most of all Louis Tomlinson and his stupid fucking biceps, stupid fucking abs, stupid fucking  _ lariat _ , and stupid fucking goddamn  _ arse _ . 

He was still cursing Louis and all things attached to Louis during and after his furious wank in  the bathroom with his shorts and pants around his ankles, skin still grubby with dirt from the garden, getting off so quick it was mortifying.

He gave Queen Freddie what he hoped was a terrifying glare on his way back to his garden, her eyes on him, silently judging him. The surroundings were quiet now, the men nowhere in sight. It was just him and his judgemental cow and his sad, half-eaten tomato.

Queen Freddie let out a low moo, as Harry stood in front of her, arms crossed.

“Yeah, well, both Louis _and_ _you_ can fuck off,” he growled, somehow just _knowing_ that she knew exactly what he’d done in the house.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------

Evening rolled around and Harry was still a mess. And when Harry was a mess, the kitchen became a mess. And when the kitchen was a mess, Harry became even more stressed out, which his stress cooking and baking was  _ supposed _ to help him with. And when Harry became even more stressed out, he became petulant. And when Harry became petulant, cleaning the kitchen became a tornado of absolute  _ chaos. _ And it was all Louis William Tomlinson’s fucking fault (No one needed to know he knew what his middle name was thanks to the Facebook stalking that hadn’t stopped. So Harry sometimes cried at night over the pictures he found of Louis holding his baby twin siblings,  _ sue _ him).

Dishes were clattered as they were washed and put away, pots and pans clanged against the sides of the sink as Harry practically assaulted them with the soapy sponge, scrubbing frantically at the dried on crust that his cooked and baked goods had left behind and letting out strings of curses when suds would fly into his eyes. Utensils were picked up in a mad haste as Harry whizzed around the kitchen like a chicken with his head cut off, dumping them into the soapy water in the sink and aggressively thrusting two middle fingers at them because he didn’t have the patience to  _ deal _ with washing  _ them _ right now. Flour and eggs and milk were practically  _ thrown _ back into what was their rightful place. A few of the eggs might’ve cracked and Harry may have stuffed the baking soda into the fridge, but whose business was that, anyway?

Grumbling and swearing and pathetic whining filled the house as Harry attacked every surface in sight that had even a  _ speck _ of food on it, voice rising to a high pitch the more frustrated he got. 

Because Louis was a tease, because Louis was pretty, because Louis somehow figured out he had a pain kink, because Louis wore chaps, because Louis dressed his baby siblings in rocker clothes and posted pictures of them on his Facebook, because Louis wouldn’t give Harry what could be their  _ own _ baby, because Louis was an outrageous ball of energy and love, because Louis had a lariat, because Louis was soft and gentle, because Louis was possessive, because Louis gave poor, innocent Harry stiffies left and fucking right and waltzed away, leaving  _ Harry _ to deal with them, like,  _ honestly, _ the  _ nerve _ . 

Because  _ Louis, Louis, Louis. _

Because he had never experienced what Louis had given him, the euphoria of being around him too much for Harry to handle. It was just all too much and yet, Harry wanted more. He wanted to learn everything there was to learn about Louis, wanted to memorize all the facts about his life and dive into his brilliant mind, wanted to know his desires and dreams, wanted to learn every facial expression of his and what they meant. He wanted so much with this man that he’d only recently just met, but that fact didn’t stop him of thinking about the beautiful wedding ceremony they could have right here on the ranch, about what an adorable family they could make. He wanted to be Louis’ in every way possible, wanted to be his boyfriend, wanted to freely give him kisses and hugs and go to sleep and wake up in the same bed as him. 

Wanted  _ Louis, Louis, Louis. _

By the end of the most disastrous baking and cleaning session he had ever had the misfortune of creating, Harry slumped dramatically onto his reclining armchair, curls flowing out in a wild mess as his hair had dried while baking since he’d taken a shower beforehand. He was completely knackered, limbs sore with exhaustion and body worn out from physical and emotional strain. Dusty crept into the living room, mewling quietly and gingerly hopping up onto the stretched out armchair. Her eyes were wide as she stared at Harry’s disgruntled state. She looked wary as she walked up his leg and settled on his stomach. 

“It’s alright, love, I won’t explode,” Harry soothed. “Yet,” he tacked on, because if this teasing and uncertainty Louis was making him endure continued much longer, he couldn’t see how he  _ wouldn’t _ explode.

Dusty just meowed again, curling up and purring. Harry wished it was as easy for him to unwind. He remembered how he hadn’t done yoga in awhile and vowed to pick it up again. It was clearly high time he did something to help relieve stress.

Harry was slipping into a daze as he smoothed his hand over Dusty’s silky fur when the front door slammed open and the four ranch hands poured into the house, engrossed in a conversation about whether Nando’s was better than McDonald’s. The clatter of their boots hitting the floor and raucous laughter pulled Harry out of his blissful state and he scooped Dusty into his arms, standing in the middle of the living room, waiting for the men to walk to the kitchen. He had a plan. 

When they were all beginning to file through the hallway, the living room in clear view, Harry pulled back his shoulder and yelled, “Stop!”

Immediately, a four man pile-up happened, all of the men startled by the unexpected sight and sound of Harry. 

Harry didn’t care that he probably looked crazed and half out of his mind, he didn’t care that he’d yanked off his headscarf amidst his crisis cooking and that it was probably baked into something, he didn’t care that he was holding Dusty and probably looked more like an upset child with pigeon toes than an intimidating man with authority--he needed attention and he needed it  _ now.  _

“Everyone is going to wash up, get some of the bloody delicious food I slaved over, gather in this sitting room and we’re all going to watch a fucking movie and cuddle before I literally  _ die  _ of affection deprivation! Please!” Harry cried, aware his voice was high and whiny, but not caring at all. 

“Harry, that’s not a thing you can die from--” 

“If I say it is, than it very well  _ is, Liam!” _

“What, haven’t gotten enough affection from Tommo the Tease?” Niall chortled. 

Harry stomped over to the boys, standing in front of Niall, and taking one of Dusty’s paws in his hand to point at Niall, using it to accentuate each word. “I  _ have _ gotten affection from Tommo the Tease, yes, but that’s precisely the problem, he’s a  _ tease  _ and I have _ needs!” _

“Harry, love,--” Louis started, voice thick with genuine concern.

Harry veered on him, paw still in hand, and raising it higher, effectively cutting Louis off. “I would very much like for you to be quiet and do as I asked you all to do as quickly as possible, please,” Harry said, pouting grimly and stomping away before any of them could question him again. 

“Jesus, what did you do to him, Lou?” he heard Zayn murmur as they all shuffled off down the hall, hopefully preparing to take showers, as Harry had asked. 

Quicker than Harry had expected, the boys had all taken hasty showers and had piled the grilled chicken and potato mash and various other side foods he’d cooked onto their plates, shuffling into the sitting room, no longer smelling like the barn animals they worked around all day. 

“Y’know what? forget Nando’s and McDonald’s, Harry’s cooking is the best,” Zayn said, shooting Harry a soft smile, and Harry sat up a bit where he was pouting in his chair.

“Agreed,” Niall said, Liam nodding with them.

“Nothing can beat our boy’s cooking,” Louis piped up, trying to catch Harry’s eye with no avail.

Zayn and Liam took the couch, Zayn laying his legs out over the cushions and Liam’s legs, and Niall plopped heavily into one of the other arm chairs, the one that didn’t recline. 

Harry had popped in the movie already, previews playing, and was lying back with Dusty perched and kneading on his lap. When Louis placed his plate on the little side table next to the reclining armchair, Harry only stared straight ahead, stroking Dusty. He was going to ignore the way Louis’ warm breath tickled his neck as he leaned over to whisper, “Do I get the privilege of sitting with you, baby?” 

And no, nope, nuh-uh, Harry was absolutely not going to give in to the flip-flop his stomach did at the soft tone Louis used and pet name he’d just been called.

“No,” Harry breathed out, trying to sound indignant and uncaring, instead of needy and stressed out like he felt.

“Why not?” Louis asked, a tinge of what sounded like actual hurt in his tone making Harry feel bad about his overreactions. 

“Because there’s not enough room,” Harry sighed, his resolve threatening to break.

He finally looked at Louis and his heart swelled ten times, the fond expression so clear on Louis’ face as well as the desire and sadness pulling at his heartstrings. 

“Okay, love.” Louis gave him a small smile before moving to sit against the back of the couch. 

The movie started and Harry was chewing on his fingernail, looking over at Louis every few minutes (seconds), pulling a blanket from the blanket basket over himself and Dusty and curling in on the armchair cushions, trying to distract himself from the agony of having Louis be so close and yet so  _ far _ from him. He hated how stubborn he was being, thinking how stupid it was that he was basically punishing Louis simply because he didn’t know what to do or how to handle the intense emotions Louis was causing him to feel. It wasn’t enough for Harry to tell Louis that he liked him, because what Harry was feeling was much stronger than just “liking” Louis. And it was terrifying and new, but that wasn’t a reason that he should separate them, because  _ clearly, _ that was doing neither of them any good, Harry’s eyes catching Louis’ every now and again.

Harry was pretty sure he had changed positions at least ten times, by now, Dusty jumping off him after the fifth time had jostled her enough that she let out a crabby meowl. He couldn’t help it, though. He felt cold and like he was missing something, or someone, so much that his body was restless and he couldn’t focus on his favorite movie. The other lads seemed to be enjoying themselves, though, making comments here and there and giggling at the funny moments, Niall laughing longer than anyone, as usual. They were oblivious to Harry’s struggle, which really, Harry was grateful for.  

After a third of the movie had passed, and just when Harry was getting to be so frustrated he could pull his hair out because he didn’t know how to call Louis back to him, Louis retreated to the kitchen, returning with another full plate of food. Instead of walking over to where he had been sitting before, he stood beside Harry’s chair. 

“Up,” he urged, voice soft enough that it wouldn’t disrupt the other lads’ enjoyment of the movie. 

For a moment, Harry just looked at him curiously, but then pulled his limbs out of the pillowy cushions and stood up with the blanket clutched to his chest. He watched as Louis set his food down on the side table like before, only this time, he settled into the chair, pushing himself into the side of it. Patting the little space next to him, Louis looked up at Harry, eyes soft and illuminated by the light from the telly. Harry gracelessly settled his bum down in the chair, really just laying on top of Louis more than anything once Louis reclined them in the chair again. Louis wordlessly took the bundled up blanket and covered them both with it, smoothing it out. Automatically, like a switch going off, Harry’s muscles relaxed, leaning completely into Louis and nuzzling his face into his soft jumper. 

“Lovely, sweet baby,” Louis murmured into Harry’s hair as he stroked his soft cheeks, pulling strands of long curls back from his face.

Harry hummed contentedly in his arms, looking up from where his head was resting on Louis’ chest to exchange soft smiles with him.     

A funny moment was happening on the screen, and the other men were chuckling as Louis pulled the plate of food onto Harry’s lap. 

“You never ate, Hazza. Food was untouched when we all went to get it,” Louis said, asking Harry why he’d skipped dinner in his roundabout way. 

“Was too keyed up. Couldn’t relax enough to get hungry,” Harry explained, feeling ridiculous now for having such a dramatic crisis during and after cooking. 

“Oh, baby,” Louis crooned, wrapping his arms tighter around Harry, planting a gentle kiss on Harry’s temple. “Eat now, if you’re hungry. I got this for you.”

Looking up, Harry gave him a grateful smile, only now realizing he was famished from the day’s activities. He ate happily, finally being able to concentrate somewhat on the movie, though his attention was always divided since Louis was just right there underneath him, holding him. He planted soft kisses to his head and neck and anywhere in between. When his soft lips pressed up against a spot behind his ear, Harry noticeably shivered and Louis breathily chuckled into the nape of his neck, making Harry squirm adorably as the puffs of air hit his skin. 

“Precious,” Louis whispered into his ear. 

Harry hummed, swallowing the last bite of food, feeling sleepy and secure in the strong arms of the man he adored. Noticing Harry was finished, Louis placed the plate on the side table and pulled them down further into the cloud-like softness of the recliner. He intertwined his legs with Harry’s, Harry’s socked feet rubbing against Louis’ bare ones, and placed his hands on Harry’s tummy. Blissfully, Harry’s eyes closed, wrapped up in the sensation of Louis’ warm hands dipping under his shirt to spread over his stomach. The circles and shapes that Louis was tracing over his smooth skin had Harry fading in and out of consciousness, wanting nothing more than to have the swell of his stomach to be large and holding a little Tomlinson inside, one that had bright eyes, sharp wit, and an infectious smile. That’s how he fell asleep, wrapped up in the loving embrace of Louis’ arms, feeling more relaxed and at peace than he’d ever felt before, dreaming of little, chubby toddlers running around that had curly hair and blue eyes and the cutest little noses much like the one that was pressed to Harry’s neck right now, breathing in his scent.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------

“No,” Harry whimpered, coming to from the most blissful sleep he’d ever had in his life, the cold sheets on his skin waking him, unpleasantly. 

“Shh, shh, hazza, Harry, ‘s okay, baby. Just gettin’ you out of these trousers,” he heard more than saw Louis say.

Harry wanted to protest, to tell him to wrap him up again in his arms, in the comfort and warmth of the chair and Louis’ arms, but the drugged feeling of not being fully awake was disabling him from speaking his thoughts out loud. 

“Shirt off or on, love?” Came Louis’ voice. 

“Off,” Harry replied after a few moments, realizing now he was covered in a sheen of sweat and somehow still craved Louis’ warmth around him. 

Once Louis had succeeded in pulling off his shirt, he pulled the light covers over Harry so he wouldn’t get chilled from the air conditioned cool of the house that Niall had turned up before heading to bed. 

Harry still had his eyes closed but they flew open when Louis left a kiss on his forehead and released his hand that he was squeezing. 

“No,” he whispered, again.

Louis was back at his side in a second. “‘S wrong, Harry?” 

Harry realized Louis sounded sleepy, too, and vaguely wondered how long he’d been passed out. The house was quiet, save for the beginnings of Niall’s snoring revving up to come to an irritating volume. 

“You can’t,” Harry trailed off, finishing the sentence in his head, eyes closing on him again. 

Louis was now stroking his cheek, thumb rubbing back and forth over his cheekbone and yes, yes,  _ yes. _ That’s what he wanted, what he  _ needed. _ He couldn’t bear the feeling of an empty bed, not after having been spoiled by being encompassed by Louis. 

“Can’t what?”

And Harry could really cry at how patient Louis was if he was more coherent and conscious, but he was half-asleep and the need for Louis to stay through the night and be there when he woke up was too much for him to convey in his state. Instead of talking, he just forced his eyes open to slits, gripping the hem of Louis’ shirt and tugging weekly. 

Louis leaned down so he was hovering right over Harry’s face, sweet breath caressing Harry’s lips. 

“Want me to sleep with you here? In your bed?”

Harry nodded weakly. “Please, Lou, god, please,” Harry whimpered, voice fading out into a barely audible whisper.

“‘S okay, baby, shh, ‘m right here, love,” Louis cooed. 

And then Louis was crawling carefully over Harry’s slumped body, pulling off his shirt and trousers as well, and Harry knew there was a love drunk smile on his face when he felt the blanket being pulled back and Louis’ familiar, steady arms wrapping around him. Their fronts pressed together, and Harry twined his legs with Louis’, his face buried in Louis’ toasty shoulder. 

Gentle fingertips caressed the softening lines of Harry’s face, and if Harry hadn’t fallen asleep he would’ve heard Louis whisper reverently, “My baby, my love, my sweet Hazza. Never gonna leave you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NEVER GONNA GIVE YOU UP! NEVER GONNA LET YOU DOWN! NEVER GONNA RUN AROUND AND DESERT YOU! (ARE THOSE THE LYRICS? IDK! OOPS CAPS LOCK IS STILL ON)
> 
> Stay tuned for more craziness as Louis continues devouring Harry's leftovers.


	7. Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been 84 years...

(Louis’ POV)

It had been a few weeks since the morning that Louis had woken up in Harry’s bed, and had made his quiet exit to get an early start on work before Harry could wake up.

It wasn’t that Louis was scared to take the relationship that they were somewhat in further, he just wanted to find the right time to ask Harry properly. Working full time on a farm and having unpredictable animals to care for didn’t really allow much for that. It was true that the ranch hands had days off, they’d all go insane with the heavy workload if they didn’t. But Louis often spent his free days running personal errands in town because there always seemed to be something he had to take care of. And there was the whole fact that Louis was quite terrified of the extent to which he cared for Harry, so he may have purposefully busied himself enough to put off having a discussion about their relationship. It was almost too much to bear to be near Harry when it made Louis’ heart physically hurt the closer they became with each passing week. The pang came from how much his heart swelled with affection whenever Harry did so much as let out a sigh.  

He wanted so much, was the thing. When Harry had revealed that he could have kids, Louis had had a mini heart attack. He’d wanted a family, had wanted so much to have little children of his and his husbands’ own, whether it was through a surrogate or adoption or through natural birth. It didn’t matter to Louis, he’d just wanted them whatever way he could have them, but the fact that he could give that to Harry, the fact Harry could carry a little human inside his belly that looked like both him and Harry overjoyed Louis to the point that he laid awake for a couple hours every night just thinking about it. 

But that was the thing, Louis’ emotions were too much too soon. He didn’t want to scare fragile, lovely Harry who needed love given to him in the gentlest possible way, who needed to be doted on and adored. He knew he could give all of that and more to Harry, wanted it all and wanted it now, and saying that out loud could ruin everything. 

So, logically, Louis shoved down his problems with every spoonful of the delicious leftovers that Harry packed away. It became more frequent now that Harry would end up letting the hands make their own dinners as he would get swamped in office work the more he delved into the business side of the ranch. Louis was often the last up to the house after a days’ work and sometimes found Harry sitting on the sofa in the sitting room with his shoulders bunched up, side of his stern face illuminated by the laptop light, surrounded by papers. One time, Louis was stupid enough to grip Harry’s shoulders and give him a thorough massage for a few minutes, resulting in deep moans from Harry that ended light and breathy and had Louis speed walking away with a throbbing cock after Harry had thanked him for working out the knots in his shoulders.

He vowed never to do that again and stuck to it. He couldn’t say the same about the leftovers.

It had to stop, he knew that. But Louis was shit at cooking and Harry was so goddamn good at it, and, well, the stomach wants what it wants. 

Tonight Louis was blessed with the taste of tomato basil soup melting on his tongue, creamy and soothing, as well as garlic bread. He let out a sigh, sitting back in the darkness at the kitchen table. Dusty had been strolling through the rooms earlier when Louis had come out from changing into his pyjamas after showering. He could’ve sworn she gave him a sassy glare when he passed her in the hall on the way to the kitchen, but it was probably just the exhaustion from another long day. It was unusual for the cat to be separated from Harry, but Louis knew Harry sometimes forgot in his sleepiness to wait up for the cat to follow him in and ended up closing the door before Dusty’s usual time that she retired to Harry’s bedroom. 

Tonight must’ve been one of those nights and it didn’t escape Louis how Dusty kept making loops that started around the kitchen table and then crossed over the open floor plan into the sitting room and back again. Several times now, Louis caught Dusty flicking her tail in the air when she passed the end of the table Louis was sat at. It was a bit unnerving, to say the least. Louis felt like he was being judged. Rightfully so, he supposed, but he had done nothing but try and be friendly to Dusty despite not liking cats very much. Any attempt he’d made at petting her was met with a bat at his hand and a dramatic exit in which Louis got an eyeful of cat arsehole. Not a pleasant experience, but the laughter that spilled from Harry’s lips when he was witness to it made it all worth it. 

Cliff padded into the kitchen just as Dusty jumped up onto a chair and sat down facing Louis. He chose to ignore the creepy stare he was getting from her and turned his attention to Clifford. 

“Hiya, boy,” he greeted, softly. 

Clifford replied by panting in his face, pink tongue lolling out. Leaning into Louis’ affectionate scratches, he surged forward up on his lap to sniff at the food laid out before his owner. 

“Oi, none of that,” Louis scolded, quietly, letting a few chuckles escape. 

Clifford was just as much a fan of Harry’s cooking as Louis. 

Caving in to Cliff’s big, pleading eyes, Louis offered him one of the slices of garlic bread. Just as Clifford was wolfing it down, a small, black paw swiped down on Cliff’s nose and Louis gasped, looking up to see Dusty with ears flattened and tail twitching. 

“What in the hell?” Louis said a little too loudly. 

With Dusty’s paw being so small, no damage was done to Clifford, but Louis was taken aback. Dusty yowled at him and swatted at Louis as he reached to remove her from the chair. 

He’d never met a cat so full of loyalty to his owner, but being that Harry was the owner here, Louis could understand Dusty’s level of deep devotion. Still, the shared devotion they felt towards the same lovely man didn’t stop Dusty from clearly trying to sabotage Louis’ eating habits. This was proven as Louis tried again to grab Dusty from the chair to place her down away from the meal and Dusty instead escaped his grasp and jumped up on the table, grabbed a slice of garlic bread and scampered away, bread between her teeth.

“Shit, shit, shit,” Louis hissed, scrambling to get up from the chair and slipping down the hall on the wood floors after the devil of a cat. 

Just as Louis was about to pick up Dusty and maybe lock her in his room, Clifford, who had run after Louis in the excitement, rammed into Louis from behind, never able to get used to the slipperiness of the floor, causing Louis to crash down to the floor with a loud thud. 

He cursed again under his breath as Dusty yowled loudly, the whole fiasco happening right in front of Harry’s door. 

“Shush, Dusty, c’mon shush,” Louis frantically whispered, finally grabbing a hold of Dusty, though not succeeding in shutting her up. 

The sound of a door opening reached Louis’ ears through the sound of Dusty’s warning meows, and Louis’ body broke out into a sweat. He looked up first to Harry’s door from where he was sprawled on the floor, meowing cat in hand and slice of garlic bread laying in front of the door. Much to his relief, the door didn’t open. But that only meant someone else had woken. 

“Tommo?” 

Louis groaned slightly, seeing Niall emerge from his room down the hall. 

“Tommo, what’re you doing?” 

If Louis had to have picked anyone to find out his little secret, he would’ve picked Niall, because he knew the other ranch hand shared his love for food and if anyone would understand his predicament without freaking out on him, it’d be Niall. 

Niall’s presence silenced Dusty and Louis didn’t even want to imagine how ridiculous he looked, clutching Dusty, legs spread out and leaning on one elbow, with Clifford sniffing the floor around him. Just as Louis was about to answer, Cliff found the slice of garlic bread and started gobbling it down like he’d been starved for ages. Louis grimaced when he looked up to Niall again and saw the shock and realization clear on his face. 

“You’re kiddin’ me,” Niall started laughing. “You’re,” a couple loud giggles spilled out, “You’re the one who’s been stealin’ food from Harry for so long?”

And then Niall was leaning on his knees for support as his body shook with silent laughter, face turning red. Louis rolled his eyes. 

“Hopeless,” he muttered under his breath, getting up and pulling Niall to the kitchen. 

Niall’s laughter had been dying down, but upon seeing the meal laid out on the table he started up again, louder than before. 

“Me? H-hopeless?” He stuttered out between breathless laughter. “Lou, Lou that’s you.”

And Louis is sure Niall would’ve toppled over from the force of his laughter if Louis hadn’t shoved him into a chair. 

“God, Niall, you gotta help me,” Louis whined. 

Niall was quieting down now and stared at Louis. “My counseling services have a price, you know.” He raised an eyebrow and glanced at the food. 

“Fuck, we’re both so stupid,” Louis grumbled, shoving the food towards Niall. 

Niall sunk back into the chair when he slurped a couple spoonfuls of soup. 

“How am I supposed to stop when his food tastes like that?” Louis asked, knowing Niall was having the same journey through food heaven that he had every time he tasted Harry’s food. 

“Well, if you want to shag him, you obviously will have to stop, and I dunno about you, Tommo, but I’d much rather be sucking gorgeous dick than soup, especially when that dick’s attached to someone as attractive as H,” Niall said, casually munching on the garlic bread. 

Louis’ jaw dropped. “Did you--did you just,” Louis sat for a moment, speechless. _ “That,” _ He paused, “was very gay of you.”

Niall just shrugged, seemingly more invested in the bread than their conversation and the fact he just made a comment about wanting to suck dick.

“Jesus, Ni, I knew you weren’t exactly straight as an arrow, but that was,” Louis cleared his throat and trailed off, just staring at Niall, looking unbothered as he finished up the food. 

“I live with four of the gayest lads, what’d you expect?” Niall stuffed the last piece of garlic bread into his mouth and got up from the chair, slapping a hand on Louis’ shoulder. “You two are so cute together, if you don’t get your shit together soon _ I’ll  _ just tell Harry you want him to birth your babies.”

Louis swivelled in his chair, stopping Niall from walking away by grabbing his wrist. “Wait, you--you know...about…?” Louis didn’t want to expose Harry since he seemed nervous when he’d sort of accidentally told Louis about his womb, but he wanted to know for some reason if Niall also knew. 

“Louis, he’s brought up babies and pregnancy in our normal conversations about a week after he got here and one day when we were all in the sitting room he asked which paternity outfit would suit him best. Had a magazine and everything for us to sift through. I think you were outside bathing Queen Freddie at the time. That kind of confirmed all of our suspicions that he’s able to carry.”

Louis blinked a couple times, processing the information.

Niall rubbed Louis’ shoulder, reassuringly. “The lad trusts us, clearly, but he trusts you most of all. Just tell him what you both already know to be true, Louis. It’s not that complicated.”

And with that Louis was left with empty dishes and a very important conversation to plan.

\---------------------------------------------------

Louis awoke with start, alarm blaring through the quiet. He groaned, not having enough sleep last night to proficiently carry him through the day. 

The day wore on and the more Louis thought about talking to Harry the more nervous he got. There was also the matter of making it up to Harry for stealing his food which weighed heavily on him. He knew he had to pay for his crimes, but how could one show he was sorry and earn forgiveness for doing something so selfish? Harry deserved the best and Louis knew he was just not cutting it right now.

All the ranch hands noticed Louis’ grumpy behavior, sarcastic comments coming out sharper than intended. By the end of the day, Louis was knackered and the other ranch hands had all agreed amongst themselves that something had to be done about how tightly strung Louis was. 

Niall was just waiting for Louis to come up to the house with the boys when Louis told him he was going to stay behind and do more work as usual. 

“None of that! Not tonight, Louis,” Niall said, stubbornly. 

Louis looked away from where he was writing the next day’s to-do list on the whiteboard. “Excuse me?” 

“The lads and I have all agreed that we’re going out for some beers because you need a fucking break and so do we, particularly from your sour attitude,” Niall stated, crossing his arms, prepared for Louis’ argument.

“Sod off, Niall. I’m fine. If you all want to go and get drunk you can do it without me.”

“Sorry, not in the plans for tonight. We’re taking Harry, too. I told him earlier around lunchtime and he got all dimpley and said he was going to get dressed up for it and if I know anything about you, you wouldn’t want to see your boy all prettied up and flirting with other men.”

Louis stalked up slowly to Niall, and Niall already knew he had won, even if Louis was pointing a finger at him and mumbling, “Not my boy yet and he wouldn’t flirt with other men”.

Niall cackled and Louis glared at him. “This is Harry we’re talking about. You think he won’t be attracting attention in whatever get up he has on?”

“No, I know he’ll be attracting attention, those fucking legs won’t allow him  _ not _ to, but he certainly won't be flirting with anyone but me,” Louis all but growled and stalked up to the house. 

Louis knew it was a mistake to agree to go out with everyone the moment he laid eyes on Harry’s sinful outfit. He was wearing a black sheer shirt, tattoos just visible underneath the material and tight black pants with rhinestone back pockets that winked under lights. Louis noticed that his long locks were free from any headscarves and  _ that _ was Louis’ weakness. Louis had opted to stay in his work clothes, not caring that he was grimy and probably smelled of cows and sweat, grumbling the whole drive there that it was stupid they had dragged him along. The only thing that made his disagreeable mood lighten slightly was Harry sitting next to him, chattering about how he was happy they were all together and that they could have some fun. But even having Harry next to him was making him irritated because he knew he didn’t have the right to touch Harry’s body the way he wanted to, even though the way he had dressed was pleading for Louis’ hands to be all over him. Louis’ hands unnecessarily brushed Harry’s thigh every few minutes. He couldn’t help himself, it was just right there, clad in black and pressed against Louis’ own thick thigh clothed in worn out, dark denim jeans.

When they piled into the bar that the ranch hands had all dubbed their favorite to go to, despite Niall’s complaints about that one server named Jack with the terrible photography skills, they had to squeeze through the throngs of people, because, after all, it was a Friday. The bar was lively and plenty of people were dancing in the area that was designated as a dance floor, the speakers blasting out music especially loud there. People weren’t too drunk or obnoxious yet as it was only about 9:30, but Louis had seen this place at its worst, had contributed to the noise and chaos and he knew the longer they stayed the more into letting loose for a bit he would be. He would never let the lads know that, though. He had dignity. Sure, his shirt was a bit smudged with dirt and horse hair, and his own hair was held back in a headband, but it was all worn with dignity and Louis knew that’s what mattered when it came to clothes. 

They settled at a table against the wall, deciding they were all famished and needed something to fill their empty stomachs with. Louis noticed Liam and Zayn talking amongst themselves, and he squinted his eyes at them when he picked up on what looked a little bit too much like love in each others’ eyes whenever they were looking at one another. He glanced at Harry who was watching them also. They exchanged knowing smirks, sharing the same thought. 

“Alright, I’ve had it, no one’s buying the platonically affectionate angle you’re going for. Do come off it,” he loudly demanded. 

Everyone looked up from where they were engrossed in their menus. 

Liam and Zayn looked at Louis then at each other. Liam mumbled something to Zayn and he was given a soft smile, Zayn’s brown doe eyes gazing at Liam like he was the only person with him.  

“Well,” Liam cleared his throat, taking Zayn’s hand, “We’re, um, we’re together. We’re boyfriends.”

“Oh my god, I knew it!” Harry giggled, slamming his fist onto the table with excitement. 

“Good on you, both. I suspected so,” Niall cheered. 

“Give me all the gory details, how’d it happen, when did it happen? You know, I’d be offended neither of you said anything to me about it if I wasn’t so happy for you,” Louis joked, winking at them. 

Liam hid his grin behind their entwined hands planting a totally not inconspicuous kiss on Zayn’s skin. 

Zayn laughed at their friends’ reactions. “Happened while we were on holiday from work for a bit when Harry returned home. Liam came and visited me and we had already gone on dates before, but it was kind of what solidified that for us. That we wanted to be exclusive. Liam got to meet my family and he was such a gentleman, not that I expected anything less from him,” Zayn explained, planting a kiss on his boyfriend’s cheek. 

“Always so kind, babe,” Liam mumbled to him, and Louis adored how wrapped up in each other they were.

He had noticed how they’d always seemed to have a stronger connection to each other since they’d all began work together. The way they talked to each other always seemed intimate, like they were sharing secrets and clearly that hadn’t changed.

“So, maybe I should send you all on holiday again,” Harry piped up.

“Why’s that?” Liam asked.

“So you can get engaged and then we can all go to your wedding,” Harry explained, like it was the most obvious thing. 

Everyone laughed, and Louis felt happier and more relaxed than he had all day. Although, he couldn’t help but feel a bit jealous of his friends’ relationship. And really, it wasn’t jealousy, just more an admiration that they’d gotten together so smoothly, that they’d had the courage to expose themselves to each other. What they had, Louis was sure they didn’t take lightly. He wanted that with Harry more than anything and he couldn’t help laying his pinky over Harry’s, their hands resting on the table next to each other. The single little touch sent a terrific thrill through his body, and seeing Harry, out of the corner of his eye, duck his head to hide a bashful smile only made that feeling intensify. 

After they’d ordered their food and finished it off, Niall insisted they all get shitfaced, despite the fact he wasn’t the one who had off tomorrow. That was Louis and the other three boys would be the ones to hold down the fort. 

“You’re going to regret it, Niall, and I won’t hesitate to play that nursery rhyme again to wake you up.” Louis grinned throwing back another shot, starting on the round that Niall had purchased for each of them. 

“Ha! You think you’d be awake early enough to do that to me after getting wasted? I think you overestimate yourself, Tommo!” Niall heartily laughed. 

“Ah, but I’m not getting wasted, you wanker,” Louis insisted. 

“We’ll see about that,” Niall murmured, a grin crinkling the skin around his eyes as he took another gulp of hard liquor from his tall glass. 

“I bet our dear Harry here is a lightweight, hm?” Louis gripped Harry’s shoulder, doing his best to make it a more platonic touch than the gentle caress he desired to give. 

“Yeah, you got tipsy that one night last week, remember? And from just two glasses of wine,” Liam reminded them all while nodding at Harry. 

Louis remembered that night well. The memory of Harry with his curls in beautiful disarray and cheeks so rosy it looked like he’d applied blush to them made Louis almost panic because he truthfully didn’t know if he could handle a sweet, tipsy Harry another night without being able to touch him the way he wanted to. That night had been a nightmare of Harry clinging to Niall like a koala bear, despite his eyes being glued to Louis, giving him the sweetest lopsided grins and pawing at him to tell him jokes any chance he could get.

“ _ Hey, ‘ _ m not  _ that  _ bad at handling my liquor,” Harry protested, raspberry colored lips turning into a pout. 

Louis wanted to kiss him so bad. 

“If you say so, H. Doesn’t mean we believe you though,” Niall joked, shrugging as he downed two more shots. 

The night wore on and no matter how much Louis tried to tell Niall he didn’t want to get drunk, he was already well on his way, feeling tipsy and giddy with Harry’s close proximity to him. They’d all long since finished their meals and Louis’ bad mood had been flushed away with every gulp of alcohol that he took. Plus, it was impossible to have a bad mood when Harry was in the vicnity, especially now when he was looking as goofy and cuddly as ever. He also looked so fuckable and in Louis’ liquor hazy mind this would be the perfect time to get his hands all over him. That shirt he was wearing made Louis want to lick him from the bottom of his torso up to his neck, to taste him, sweat and all. 

“Fuck, I can’t sit here anymore, need to move me legs a bit,” Louis announced, standing up unsteadily and swallowing down another shot, the burn no longer a prominent sensation. 

Niall was glaring at the sight of a blonde woman who seemed to be getting handsy with the server that Louis recognized as Jack. The waiter kept glancing in Niall’s direction and Louis was too drunk to understand what messages were being sent back and forth between the two men. Zayn and Liam had moved to join the now much larger group of people centered on the dance floor and Harry, who’s glassy eyes were following Louis’ wobbly journey there, was sitting in his chair that he’d scooted progressively closer to Louis’ as the night wore on. 

Louis stopped when he saw Harry still staring at him, not moving from his chair. “You coming, Styles? Or do I have to rope you in to dancing with me, too?” 

Louis would’ve laughed at how Harry stumbled so quickly out of his chair that he tripped twice on his own feet, if it wasn’t for how mesmerized he was by Harry’s thighs encased in those jeans and the movement of his torso beneath the sheer shirt. 

“Don’t get too close to Liam and Zayn, if you want to preserve your innocence. Not that you have much or any to begin with,” Niall called to them as they left. 

Louis raised his eyebrows when he looked back to Niall only to find him already making his way to the waiter who was now standing alone, blonde woman nowhere in sight.

Louis made sure to place himself a good distance away from where Liam and Zayn looked like they were trying to fuck each other with their clothes on. He didn’t need that image seared into his brain. No, what he needed was a flushed, cheeky Harry who was already clutching at Louis’ waist as they wove their way through the growing crowd in the bar. The speakers were blaring out loud, pulsing music when they stopped on the dance floor and Louis could feel the bass rumble in his chest. The air was more dense in this area and sweat was a prominent scent that Louis knew he was contributing to. He turned around to take in Harry once they stopped to dance and was rewarded with a crooked grin, and a lithe body that immediately started swaying to the music. Putting his arms above his head, Harry swayed his hips to the beat, moving into Louis’ space, the most mischievous, crooked grin on his face. Hungrily, Louis took in the sight, wanting to just take Harry right then and there, not caring who saw. It was safe to say that Louis had drank quite a bit more than Harry, and his mind was fuzzy with desire, senses on alert with Harry crowding in so close to him. Not able to help himself, Louis gripped Harry’s hips, the swaying motions, that had become more sensual and fluid and less goofy, not stopping under his firm grip. 

“Could watch you dance all night,” Louis said into Harry’s ear, stepping back again to take in the full view. 

Encouraged by Louis’ words and the alcohol in his veins, Harry body rolled into Louis and Louis’ hands flew under Harry’s shirt to rub up and down his sides and back, feeling the delicious expanse of dewy skin. The coquettish grin sent his way made Louis weak with the urge to kiss Harry. 

Louis was moving along to the beat as well, not as enthusiastically as Harry because of the trance he was in, but enough that he was beginning to work up a sweat, the liquor, arousal, and having so many people around not helping his situation. In some distant, rational part of his mind he remembered he hadn’t showered before going out and that where sweat was dripping down his skin there could be tracks left, because god knows he got dusty working outside. He could only send up an intoxicated prayer that Harry would ignore it. 

Harry was blushing down to his neck, but the way his ab muscles were rippling under the sheer material of his shirt with each sway of his hips and the unabashed way he was feeling up Louis’ chest was a guarantee it was the alcohol and not any embarrassment. As Harry held his gaze, Louis felt like he was on fire and the only way to get relief from the flames was to consume Harry, to make him his, to bury his nose in those long locks and suck a bruise on the sweaty skin of his neck. 

Louis let out a string of curse words as Harry decided he wasn’t torturing Louis enough and swung his hips in a circle, turning his body with the motion so he was now dancing with his back to Louis, pert arse that was sparkling due to the rhinestones on his jeans on full display. 

Turning his head to catch Louis’ gaze again, Harry played with his hair, running his hands through it as his hips moved sinfully. 

“Fucking touch me, Louis, please,” Harry rumbled, just loud enough to hear over the music, pushing himself flush against Louis’ front and leaning his head back to let puffs of hot air caress the side of Louis’ face.

Louis didn’t need any more begging from Harry to do just that. 

He slid his hands from where they were gripping Harry’s hips bruisingly down to the flanks of his arse, the area that wasn’t grinding up against Louis’ hardening cock. He let out a heavy exhale, feeling the muscles contract and relax with each sway and grind of Harry’s hips. Louis resisted the urge to sink his teeth into the bare skin of Harry’s neck that was revealed when his locks slid off the slope of his neck. Instead, he slid his one hand up under Harry’s shirt, the feel of Harry’s hot, smooth skin making his clothed cock twitch against Harry’s arse. He heard Harry faintly let out a curse, the word getting drowned in the loud, thumping music. Overwhelmed by having his senses so filled with all things Harry, Louis turned Harry’s head to the side again with his free hand and took a moment to admire the debauched look on his face. He wanted so many things with the man he had in his arms right now, wanted to make so many memories together, but he was drunk and Harry was beautiful--with his tousled hair, flushed cheeks, and dark, half-lidded eyes--so Louis took one last look at those cherry red lips of his before kissing him.  

He felt Harry place his large hand to rest on his face and felt more than heard the groan that Harry let out when Louis slipped his tongue past those sinful lips of his. The warm, slick slide of their tongues against each other was absolute heaven, and Louis revelled in the taste of beer and whatever other hard liquor Niall had ordered for them that was on Harry’s lips.

Louis’ hands slid into their rightful place on Harry’s hips again, and ground down hard into him, trying to find relief but only ending up feeling more crazed with lust. Harry moved back against him, and Louis would’ve been smiling at how he was always so eager to please if his tongue wasn’t down Harry’s pretty throat and he didn’t have a raging boner. 

Their kiss became more frantic as they were basically dry humping on the crowded dance floor, but Louis couldn’t care less in his lust-addled state, nostrils filled with Harry’s natural musk that was stronger than usual due to how much he was sweating. In an attempt to get Harry closer, Louis’ nails moved up under Harry’s shirt to pull him back so there was no chance of any space getting between their overheated bodies, and his nails bit sharply into Harry’s love handles. Louis was sucking a bruise into his dancing partner’s neck when he did this, and his ear was close enough to Harry’s lips to hear the high pitched moan that was emitted. There was a sharp pull of arousal deep in Louis’ stomach and before he knew what was happening, Harry was pulling away from Louis’ vice like grip and tugging him along. 

“Where--” Louis took a breath, panting from arousal. “Where are we going?”

There was no answer as Harry led them this way and that before he found the bathrooms he’d clearly been looking for, and burst through the door, Louis in tow, trying his best to conceal the tented front of his jeans from the other patrons. Once inside the single restroom, Harry slammed the door shut, and simply tightened his grip on Louis’ hand as he leaned back against the wall next to the sink. 

Dumbly, Louis stared at his beautiful, glistening face which was contorted in what appeared to be pain. Harry thumped his head against the solid wall and let out a whine, and Louis followed the tensed line of his arm down to where he was palming himself through his jeans. Louis almost came right there, the image of Harry completely lost in his desire to come, bottom lip red and bitten down on so hard it was turning white. He was panting and letting out soft moans when he opened his eyes again. Abruptly, he let go of Louis’ hand only to clutch the front of Louis’ shirt, tugging him in close so Louis could feel the bump of Harry’s hand palming himself every now and again. Louis was entranced by the intensity in his eyes, a frustrated line between his brows as he stared at Louis, harsh breaths hitting Louis’ lips. 

“Harry--”

“N-need--” Harry paused to pant. “Need you, Lou.”

The sweet, helpless whimper that escaped his lips made Louis take his face in between his hands to seal their lips together. He nipped at Harry’s lips and soothed the sting with his tongue, licking over the swollen flesh.

“Fuck, Harry. You in that shirt and those pants,” Louis groaned, licking a stripe up Harry’s neck. “Couldn’t take my eyes off your fuckin’ arse thanks to those pants.” 

Louis pulled back to watch Harry’s face as he smoothed his hands over Harry’s bum, feeling the texture of the rhinestones, staring directly into his eyes as he abruptly delivered a swift, short smack to his flank. Eyelids flying open and then dropping again, Harry let out a soft yelp that was followed by a long moan as Louis gripped both cheeks hard.

“Shit, Harry, you make this so hard,” Louis whispered, nipping at Harry’s earlobe.

He felt a palm cup him and squeeze playfully. Pulling back from Harry’s ear to look at him, Louis was somewhat taken aback to see Harry’s smirk. He was the living, breathing male definition of a minx, pupils blown and gaze alight with mischief, coy smile stretching wider as Louis let out a soft moan at how Harry’s hand stroked him through the denim material as best he could.  

“I know. I can  _ feel _ how hard I make this,” he murmured, laughter in his eyes. 

Louis responded by landing a harsher slap on Harry’s arse. He could’ve sworn his heart doubled in size at the stupid joke that was such a  _ Harry _ thing to say and at the airy moan he let out, eyes meeting Louis’ again as he re-opened them, a crooked smile on his lips. Being able to witness Harry uninhibited like this, still playful even in this state, felt unreal to Louis. 

It also felt wrong. Because they  _ weren’t _ official and Louis hadn’t been able to show Harry the extent of how much he truly cared about him. He didn’t want Harry to think he was only interested in him for sex. And he didn’t want to rush into something that he hoped would last between them for years to come. Maybe forever. 

Louis shook his head to clear it, a smile pulling at the corners of his lips due to Harry’s antics. 

“S’not what I meant, smartarse,” Louis chuckled.

“Well, what  _ did _ you mean, big arse?” Harry laughed, squeezing Louis’ own bum. 

“Meant that you’re pretty and you’re--god, you’re, like, really, so beautiful, Hazza,” Louis rambled, the effects of the alcohol not helping him in trying to explain his intentions to Harry.

He brushed the sweat damp strand of hair that had distracted him away from Harry’s face, tucking it as steadily as he could behind his ear. Harry giggled, hands roaming, feeling Louis and all his toned muscles, teasing him as he brushed over his still hard cock. 

“Want you to dirty me up, Lou. Look so sexy like this, all gruff,” Harry breathed, frustratedly, and Louis could tell he probably had lost what their conversation was about. 

Harry may have been more sober than Louis before but right now he was absolutely drunk with lust and he could tell that he just wanted to be close to Louis. Louis also recalled Harry telling him a few weeks ago how much of a lightweight he was so maybe he was more affected than Louis had thought. On the other hand, Louis had sobered up, the seriousness of doing anything with Harry right now when they were both intoxicated hitting him hard. 

Still, the words spilling from Harry’s mouth and the way he was staring at Louis’ groin with those stern brows and adorable pout, red marks on his neck and shoulder, and palm just feeling the hard outline of Louis’ cock was not helping his cause and he had to stop this now before he gave in. 

Just as Harry was beginning to undo Louis’ belt, Louis grabbed his hands and Harry’s eyes shot up to gaze at him. 

“Harry, I want--I can’t--I don’t want to mess things up okay?”

Harry looked crestfallen, eyes looking to the floor. “I-I get it, Lou.”

Louis crowded into Harry’s space, taking his face in his hands, rubbing his thumbs over his cheekbones. “Hey, love, look at me. ‘S not what I meant. What I mean is that I want you in every way possible but I don’t want to start our relationship like this,” Louis explained, taking in every emotion flickering in the glossy eyes looking back at him. 

Harry’s eyes widened a bit, swollen pink mouth parting to inhale a ragged breath before saying in almost a whisper, “You-you want an us, like, for us to be in a relationship? Like, officially?”

Faintly, Louis felt a surge of panic that he’d just revealed something so huge and important to Harry in the bathroom of a bar with his own body still covered in dried sweat and grime. But the alcohol had made his lips loose and right now he really couldn’t be arsed to be careful with how his feelings were delivered. If he spilled to Harry that he wanted to give him the world than so be it. He was too drunk and too in love to care about it. And probably in the morning he’d panic and think of how foolish he’d been, but right now, with Harry trapped between the wall and his body, he didn’t have control over his tongue. 

“Yes, more than anything, Harry,” Louis whispered, looking into his eyes.

“Me, too. Oh, Lou, me, too,” Harry breathed, brushing a hand through Louis’ hair. 

Someone banging on the door made them jump apart, both of their eyes wide, realizing they were hogging the bathroom of a bar. 

“What the hell!” The voice shouted on the other end, the banging intensifying, the man clearly impatient. 

“Come on, I’ve had my fill of sweaty people and stinky bathrooms for one night,” Louis said, grabbing Harry’s hand and exiting the bathroom, not caring about the judging stare the man gave them both when they emerged.

What took you two so long?” The man asked, clearly thinking the worst of the situation, disgust on his face.

“Just a bit of banter, really,” Louis replied over his shoulder, heart swelling in size when he heard Harry’s honking laugh erupt from behind him and the hand around his own hold tighter.  

\-------------------------------------------------------------------

Louis was on cloud nine when they arrived back home. Harry had left to go to his room, giving Louis’ hand one final squeeze before dropping it after holding it for the whole ride home. Zayn and Liam had stumbled into Liam’s room and Niall went straight for his room, not as wasted as he should be considering the amount of liquor he’d consumed, but definitely too drunk to stay up. 

Louis, however, felt like he was going to jump out of his body with excitement. He wanted to take Harry out on a proper date  _ now, _ wanted to kiss him and lavish him with gifts and affection. In his drunk state, Louis accepted that he was fully and completely in love with Harry Styles. The times they’d spent together, getting to know more and more about his life and getting to experience the layered personality Harry had had proved to Louis this wasn’t just some fling he was getting too caught up in. 

And he really needed to do something about his food crimes. Immediately. 

With the moon shining above him, Louis set out unsteadily towards a field he knew of where he could think about what to give Harry as an apology without giving himself away. Nature soothed him, made his mind clear and also allowed him to spend long hours simply daydreaming. 

Before Harry came, it was always Louis dreaming about finding a man he could love, about settling down, about what he’d name his children, about how they’d look and how he’d raise them. They were vague dreams with faceless figures, no details brightening the images Louis conjured up. Now, he spent long moments going over Harry’s features, wanting to memorize every detail of him, thinking of what their wedding could be like on this glorious set of land they both lived on. And he had a clearer idea of what his kids could look like, if Harry really did want Louis in the same way. He dreamed of holding small children in his arms with beautiful wide eyes and curly locks, of being able to buy them ridiculous little gold boots that matched their father’s own and teaching them to lasso in their giant goofball of a dad, just like he had done.

When Louis became aware of his surroundings again, he realized he wandered to a field and had laid down in it. He might’ve been going in and out of sleep but he was too unaware of himself to really know. 

His eyes landed on the sunflowers that were waving in the slight breeze not too far from where he was laying in the grass. Louis remembered walking through that same sunflower field the first month he came to work on the farm, loving the feel of the large petals. Anne had explained that they were called Prairie Sunflowers, smaller than the stereotypical ones that were almost as large as a person’s head. Louis liked them much better, their more petite size more convenient for putting in bouquets, which he’d done for his mum when she’d visited one time. He staggered to his feet and walked straight into the long stocks, letting himself be surrounded by the yellow flowers. He breathed in their sweet scent and it finally dawned on him what he could do to apologize for eating so many of Harry’s leftovers.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Neil ain't str8.
> 
>  
> 
> My tumblr: andtheywerebandmates


	8. Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really need to finish this story before the year ends lmao. 
> 
> Thank you for the lovely comments I've gotten, each and every one means a lot.
> 
> Also, this chapter contains some smut. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

(Harry’s POV)

 

When Harry walked to his bedroom door the next morning, eyes still bleary with sleep and a headache pounding through his head, he almost toppled over the big vase that sat just in front of his door. He looked down in confusion, eyes still crusty and squinted with pain from the throbbing in his head. When he finally realized what he was looking at, he felt a tug at his heart, and despite the fact his hangover was making his stomach lurch unpleasantly a delighted, awed smile crept onto his face. 

He lifted the vase up and pressed his nose into the beautiful sunflowers that were overflowing over the brim of the vase, vibrant yellow and sweet smelling and definitely wild. For a moment Harry forgot about his painful hangover as he pulled back, lungs filled with the sweet floral scent and looked for any explanation as to why he got this wonderful gift delivered to him. 

A little voice in his head was telling him it was Louis, that only Louis cared enough to do something so tender for him. When he saw a little piece of paper that was clearly ripped from a notebook taped onto the side of the vase he eagerly pulled it off, eyes trying to decipher what was written on it. 

The handwriting was atrocious, scrawled with lines extending far too long, like how it was when Harry used to hurriedly write a birthday card in the car before going to a family member’s party and the roads were bumpy. Along with that, the spelling was terrible, similar to the texts he sent his mum in uni when he was drunk and lonely and had no one to cuddle. Harry turned the paper this way and that, reading the line over and over until it made sense and he decoded all the words. 

 

_ Soz abut te food , yure a realy good cok  _

 

_ P.s. yor cat ~~dosnt~~ ~~doent lik e~~ hates me :( _

 

Harry couldn’t help but snort at the misspelling of the word cook, cheeks flushing with how adorable the little note was. He rubbed his thumb over the wobbly smiley face at the end of the first sentence that was dotted with x’s, a type of smiley face he didn’t normally see which made the little note all the more endearing. Whoever had written this and gotten the flowers and put this whole little apology gift together had tried very hard to spell “doesn’t” correctly and finally gave up, deciding to just say Dusty hated them and Harry yearned to give a hug to the mystery person.

The thing is, Harry knew it had to be one of the ranch hands and as much as he’d been upset over his carefully crafted leftover meals being mostly eaten up, he couldn’t find it in him to be  _ that _ angry, especially after receiving such a sweet gift. In fact, maybe if this person felt so terribly about the whole ordeal, they’d bring him another bouquet of wild flowers. Harry would keep cooking just to throw leftovers in the fridge for his food thief if that meant getting pretty flowers and cute notes every now and again. 

With a stupid smile on his face, he tripped over to his nightstand, carefully placing down the vase and ruffling the soft petals of the cheery flowers, water already at the bottom, ensuring the plant wasn’t going to shrivel up. 

Before leaving to start his day, he turned to Dusty, pointing a finger at her and setting his other hand on his hip. 

“Don’t be a dickhead, Dusty. You should be kind, even if they’re eating my food. I got a bouquet out of it, and the person seems sorry,” Harry said, trying to be stern, but failing when he thought of one of the hands scribbling that sad little note down.

Dusty yowled in return, then proceeded to stretch out her back, kneading her small paws into the rumpled sheets of Harry’s bed. 

Harry ducked down to place a quick peck on her furry head and went to start his day, his hangover not making him as grumpy as usual all thanks to that precious bouquet waiting to keep him company anytime he was in his room. 

\----------------------------------------------------------------

When lunchtime rolled around, Harry brought out a healthy meal to the boys, Niall’s head popping up when he greeted them where they were tying their horses near the house.

“You’re a fucking life saver, Harry,” Niall breathed, eyes glued to the tray that Harry was carrying. 

“What’ve you got for us today, boss?” Zayn inquired hand clasped in Liam’s as he peered at the food. 

Harry pulled the food from where Niall looked like he was going to put his nose into it, his inhalations deep as if he was entering some trance. 

“Manners,” Harry scolded, teasingly. “This is called a Steak Fajita Power Bowl. I had to make this because I’ve been witnessing far too many cans of soup that contain way too much sodium being eaten up. You can’t have such terrible diets and expect to work properly. Your body needs the right nutrients.”

“I’ll eat anything you make, Harry. All you have to do is hand it over,” Niall urged.  

“Not quite,” Harry said, grinning from ear to ear. Harry cleared his throat, looking at each of the boys. “To whichever one of you is so hungry that they continue to eat my leftovers, I’m not mad at you. Well, like. I was just a bit before, but that's beside the point,” Harry rambled, shaking his head to clear it. “Thank you to whoever delivered those flowers to me, I’m really touched and you don’t have to, like, hide from me or whatever.”

The ranch hands were all looking around at each other, exchanging glances. Harry couldn’t decipher what was being said with all the glances being thrown every which way, but it was clear that Niall was turning red in the face next to Harry. He noticed the baffled looks Liam and Zayn now wore on their faces, but Niall looked preoccupied with trying to keep in his boisterous laughter. 

“That’s sweet of you, Harry,” Liam said, finally, once Niall’s face was turning back to a normal peachy shade. 

“Um, thank you,” Harry blushed, feeling awkward since none of them had really replied to him. 

“Did Louis get his arse out of bed yet?” Zayn asked, taking the tray from Harry and walking over to the bench, the other men following. 

“He only came out to shower and then disappeared again into his room. Maybe doesn’t feel good. I was going to check on him but I didn’t want to bother him,” Harry shrugged. 

“Babe, I’m pretty sure, if he could, Louis would have you attached to him at all times. “Harry” and “bother” don’t even exist together in his mind, judging by the way he goes on about you,” Liam chuckled, eyes crinkling, squeezing Harry’s shoulder with his strong hand. 

So after Harry had finished making sure the boys all had everything they needed with their meal, he strutted into the house, on a mission to feed his man. Well, at least, he hoped he soon would be his man. That he could belong to him and vice versa. 

His heart ached with how much he wanted, wanted,  _ wanted.  _ He wanted to be around Louis, touching Louis, talking to Louis, kissing Louis, watching Louis  _ all _ of the time. He was completely and irrevocably gone and the weight of accepting that had almost crushed him, but not as much as the thought of not telling him about how he felt and canceling out the possibility of having him as his significant other altogether. It was strange that he felt so close to the head ranch hand, so comfortable with him after such a short amount of time, but their personalities fit together so well like two puzzles pieces meant to come together to complete a bigger picture.

He tapped lightly on Louis’ door, not hearing any movement from inside. After a moment, he heard some rustling. Louis cleared his throat and croaked, “Who is it?”

“Room service,” Harry spoke in a mock formal voice, trying hard not to let his giddiness be heard at seeing Louis after all they’d said last night, and, god, all they’d  _ done. _

“Come in,” Louis sing songed. 

Upon opening the door, Harry was met with a dim room, the curtains drawn, keeping the blinding sunlight out. As his eyes adjusted he eventually made out the messy floor, clothes strewn all around the floor and a towel flung carelessly over the back of a large leather desk chair set in front of a wooden desk that was near Louis’ bed.

And Louis was in that bed. Shirtless. With his hands under his head, phone laying on his naked torso. The quilt lay over his hips, covering the bottom part of his body, eyes trained on Harry. 

“Oh,” Harry breathed. 

At the sight of Louis’ toned body and sharp facial features defined by the dim rays of light that bled through the curtain, he almost dropped the bowl of food and fruit smoothie that he was holding in his hands. 

“For me?” Louis asked, sitting up to rest his back against the headboard of his bed. 

Startling out of his stupor, Harry let out a loud, trembling breath that he was certain even Queen Freddie could hear from here. “Yes, yeah, um, I thought what with how much you--we  drank last night, and, you know, with you probably being hungover, you would maybe like a, um, a food. A meal! A meal,” Harry corrected himself, mentally cursing his rambling habit. 

Grinning mischievously, Louis pulled back the quilt with fervor, took the bowl and glass from Harry and set it down in a flash by his bed. Without warning, he gripped Harry’s hips from where he was sitting on the bed, causing Harry to let out a sharp squawk as he was pulled onto the bed, his stomach twisting, nothing like the unpleasant way it had been doing this morning from his hangover. 

And then he was completely encompassed by Louis. Louis around him, under him, his nose burying into the crook of Harry’s shoulder and breathing him in. The older man’s legs curled around Harry’s, his steady arms gripping Harry tightly to his chest. All Harry could do was lie there on top of him, absolutely stunned and caught off guard and slightly dizzy with all of his senses being invaded by all things Louis.

And then the kissing started, suddenly and persistently like the torrids of rain that Harry had run through with joy when he was little, boisterous laughter pouring out of him. Louis was pecking him all over his curly head, Harry giggling and rumbling with laughter into his chest, face smushed into the tender skin of this spontaneous, sweet creature he had fallen for.

_ “Lou,”  _ Harry whined, secretly loving and soaking up all the attention. 

Louis ignored him but Harry could hear and, more importantly,  _ feel  _ the laughter escaping him in spurts, his lips preoccupied with covering Harry’s head in kisses. He moved his arms so he could pull Harry’s face up, only to then cover his forehead and cheeks with more kisses. 

Harry was  _ thriving,  _ feeling like those sunflowers in his bedroom that reached toward the sun coming in through his window, snorting and shrieking as Louis had started to tickle him. He wiggled around in Louis’ tight hold, body jolting this way and that to escape the prodding fingers, toes curling with delight as Louis’ kisses slowed but continued on, the writhing Harry was doing making it difficult for Louis to plant kisses on his face as quickly as before. 

“L- _ Louis!  _ Lou, stop!” Harry squealed out. 

His pleas didn’t fall on deaf ears this time and his body was pushed over onto his back to sink into the pillowy softness of Louis’ mattress. Harry much preferred laying on Louis, instead. 

Louis hovered above him on his forearms, their heaving chests brushing. He was beaming as bright as the sun and Harry couldn’t help but think that whatever ball of light that was being kept from shining through Louis’ window wasn’t the actual sun, that he had the  _ real _ sun right here in his arms, eyes soft and gleaming, grin glowing. And Harry wanted him all for himself.

Louis leaned in after a few moments of studying Harry’s eyes and face, planting two of the gentlest kisses onto Harry’s eyelids. 

“I want to date you and woo you and be your boyfriend and kiss your gorgeous face for as long as you’ll let me. Will you be me boyfriend, Hazza, will you allow me to date you? Been planning it all up in me head this whole morning,” Louis rasped into his ear, hot breath against the now pebbled skin of his neck. 

“Been planning what?” Harry asked, dopey smile plastered on his face, thumb rubbing at the nape of Louis’ neck.

“Our date, how I’m going to treat you like the kind, deserving gentleman you are,” Louis whispered.

He pulled back to look Harry in the eyes. Harry was bowled over by the raw emotion that shone there in the blue depths. He never wanted to look away.

“I would be over the moon delighted to be wooed by you, Louis Tomlinson,” Harry slurred, drunk off of Louis. 

“Over the moon delighted,” Louis repeated in a soft voice, shaking his head in awe like Harry was unbelievable in the best way possible. He chuckled, smoothing his thumb over Harry’s soft skin. “I’m going to date you so hard, Harry Styles,” Louis vowed before ducking to take Harry’s lips between his own, joining them together in a passionate but gentle union. 

All Harry could think was,  _ And I’m going to marry the shit out of you. _

\---------------------------------------------------------------

When Louis had said that he had planned it all out, he’d meant he’d planned it to a t. Harry had decided to take the day off so he spent it out in his small garden and then, as the sun began to set, decided to chat to Queen Freddie about whatever was on his mind.

He had grabbed a tack box from the barn with her grooming tools in it and was brushing through the light layer of dust on her back when he saw Louis trudging to the barn with a wagon full of things Harry couldn’t make out since they were hidden under a blanket. 

Louis must’ve felt Harry’s eyes on him when he was walking past because he looked to where Harry was peeking over Queen’s neck. 

“What did I say about staring, Curly?” Louis scolded, but his eyes shone with mischief. 

Harry blushed at the nickname, and a deep giggle slipped out from his lips. He ducked his head, and proceeded to resume the long strokes over his cow’s coat. 

Queen never needed to be tied up or brought out of the pasture if she needed a quick groom. The cow was lazy and loved being pampered and it was easier letting her stand in whatever area of the pasture she liked than getting her to move to a hitching post. 

He glanced up again a few seconds later to sneak another glance at Louis, who apparently had a sixth sense attuned to feel Harry’s eyes on him since he looked up and winked at Harry before looking away again. 

Queen turned to look at him as he shoved his face into her neck, grinning like the lovesick idiot he was. 

“Oh, Queen, how will I survive?” Harry pouted into her fur. 

She licked her lips noisily and he looked her in the eye. He knew that look. The flick of her ear said it all, along with her droopy stare. It was the stare he got whenever he moaned about stupid things to her--like how he wasn’t getting enough attention or, alternatively, when he was getting so much attention he didn’t know how to handle himself. She might as well have asked ‘are you kidding me?’. Harry could practically hear her sarcastic tone. 

“I know, I know,” Harry sighed, moving around to stand in front of his beloved friend. 

He gave her a peck on her wide forehead, and smoothed his hand over her muzzle. 

After spending a few more minutes with Queen, he went inside to shower and change into something nice for his date, Louis telling him earlier to meet him in the barn at seven o’clock. He decided to leave his hair down, free of any headscarves since he remembered how much Louis liked to casually play with his locks, even while he would carry on a conversation with one of the other men. 

Feeling confident in his outfit choice of a half unbuttoned pink blouse and black skinny jeans, he strode towards the barn, not able to keep the smile from his face. Upon entering the barn, he heard soft music playing from somewhere and frowned, not knowing exactly where Louis was waiting for him. 

“Louis?” He called, wringing his hands.

There was the clattering of boots against wooden stairs and then Louis appeared at the end of the barn aisle, looking magnificent as always. His hair was styled carefully and he had on a dark blue shirt and black trousers, his curves accentuated perfectly by the outfit. But Harry cared most about the soft look on his face, eyes drinking in Harry as he walked toward him, a tiny smile on his face. Once Harry reached him, Louis took his hand in his and they both shared shy smiles before Harry was being led up the same stairs Louis had descended. 

“Did you forget about your little loft room?” Louis asked, as Harry tried to keep his eyes anywhere but on the view of Louis’ arse in front of his face. 

He didn’t get a chance to answer though as they reached the top of the stairs and Harry’s eyes bulged at the scene before him.

He felt as though he’d stepped onto some romantic movie set. There was a small table set up in the middle of the spacious loft, two places set on either end, a wine bottle and platters of food set in the middle. The whole room was lit with the soft glow of candles, two of which were sitting on the table. Harry’s eyes almost started watering, thinking of Louis taking so much care in setting all of this up. This was better than any movie set, because it was real, intimate, and it was done all for him. 

“Alright, love?” Louis asked, softly, brushing a stray curl from Harry’s face. 

Harry turned to him, awed by all of it. He squeezed Louis’ rough, calloused hand. “More than alright,” he breathed. “Louis, this is--just, wow.”

Louis let out an embarrassed little huff of a laugh. “Don’t speak so soon, you haven’t tried the food, yet.”

He guided Harry to one of the chairs, pulling it out for him. 

“Now,” Louis began, walking to the side of the table to point to the steaming food laid out. “I made us chicken wrapped in parma ham and this is a side of homemade mash and there’s some gravy to add to it if you fancy that,” Louis explained, pointing to each food in it’s respective dish. 

Harry’s eyes widened. “Lou, you made all of this?”

“A lad has to learn a thing or two if he plans on winning over someone as special as you,” Louis murmured. “Shall I serve you?”

“Please,” Harry replied, completely and totally endeared by how formal Louis was being about the whole thing, clearly a bit nervous. 

When the food had been served, and wine poured, Louis raised his glass to Harry from across the table, his features gentle and glowing in the flickering yellow light of the candles.

“To having a wonderful date that hopefully won’t end up in stomach aches,” Louis grinned. 

Harry chuckled, shaking his head and clinking his glass against Louis’ before they both took a sip. 

Harry honestly couldn’t believe how good the food tasted when he took the first bite, it was flavored perfectly and not a thing needed to be added to it. He told Louis as much, leaving the other man with pink cheeks and a mumbled reply that Harry was just too good at flattery. They discussed random little things they were excited about, Harry saying he was getting a new animal soon, but wouldn’t tell Louis what it was and they both shared the funny stories they’d collected over the years of the embarrassing things that happened while riding and being around cows. Louis laughed particularly hard at the story of how Harry had ripped his pants while trying mount White Eskimo to impress a boy.

“You know, to answer your question from earlier, I honestly did forget about this place. I stopped coming up here around the time I turned fifteen. Guess I got too busy with school and friends to enjoy it.”

“It’s quite a lovely little set up,” Louis agreed, looking at the tiny bed pushed against the wall in one corner with a nightstand next to it where an old picture stood of Harry at fourteen years old with White Eskimo, holding up the trophy he won at a jumping competition. There was an old bean bag and a couple of abandoned books that laid next it as well amongst the numerous square bales of hay. 

“Though I find it hard to believe you completely abandoned it. The place is perfect for secret hook ups, hm?” Louis chuckled, a mischievous glint in his eye. 

Harry rolled his eyes. “Oh, please, Mum knew what teenage boys get up to and banned me from taking any friends up here. Not that I was even dating or hooking up before I was sixteen. Come to think of it, Mum made that rule around the time I turned that age, so maybe that’s why I stopped hanging out here,” Harry mused.

“You know, most teenagers wouldn’t give a shit and just use it anyway, sneak around and all that,” Louis laughed.

“Mm, that never occurred to me,” Harry said, realizing how well-behaved he was to follow the rules like that. 

“Ah, so you were a good boy, didn’t stir up trouble like I did?” Louis leaned his head on his hand, smirk in place and studying Harry so intently butterflies rose in his stomach.

“I’d like to think I still am,” Harry sniffled, looking indignant for the humor of it. 

Louis let out a laugh, blue eyes shining, and Harry grinned, feeling proud that he’d achieved that.  

“Besides I was so set on getting good grades I didn’t let myself get too caught up in having a love life. Didn’t really mind it either. My friends were great, I still keep in touch with a few.”

“Well, you were definitely a lot more goal oriented than I was as a teenager. I think my mum knew not to put too much pressure on me with grades with all my talk of becoming a riding instructor,” Louis reminisced. 

“What happened that you didn’t become one?” Harry asked, intrigued since Louis had never shared that with him. 

“Well, my parents made the mistake of taking the whole bunch of us to this dude ranch in America. Mind you that was the first vacation we’d taken and the last one we would take for a few years because with so many kids, doing things like that really drains a person’s bank account. And me mum and step-dad weren’t very well off anyway,” Louis began. 

Harry nodded, taking another bite of food and loving the soft rasp in Louis’ voice more with every second that passed.

“I think me mum chose that resort for me, not to sound selfish, but it was right after I graduated and was agonizing over whether I was going to follow along with everyone else and go to uni or follow me own dream. I think it was her way of showing me she wanted me to do what was going to make me happy. Anyway, there was this cowboy there, Landon, who had been a ranch hand his whole life. He was so knowledgeable about horses and cows, absolutely loved the animals. I had so many discussions with him after trail rides, probably annoyed him more than I realized but he was so patient and attentive and seemed more than happy to just share his world with someone, because from what I observed a lot of the other kids really didn’t care for asking questions and learning more, which is understandable. Anyway, I changed me mind about both my options and as soon as we got home I started learning to ride western, dived into taking jobs that would teach me what I needed to know and two years later got me first job as a ranch hand.”

“That’s really amazing you met someone so eager to share information with you,” Harry said, now in more awe of Louis then before, if that was possible. 

“It is. He was just like this ball of sunshine, always joking about, loved interacting with all the kids and animals.”

“Sounds a bit like you,” Harry said. 

This made Louis blush, and Harry didn’t often get to see the beautiful shade of red on his cheeks. 

“So, why was it a mistake that your mum took you there, then?” Harry inquired, genuinely confused.

“Oh, well, I don’t know. Guess I think it’s more glamorous to say that your son is a riding instructor and not a ranch hand. I just hope Mum doesn’t regret it,” Louis replied, lashes casting shadows over his cheekbones. 

“Oh, Louis, people love you because of the amazing person you are, not because of your job. I’m sure your mum is so immensely proud of you, regardless of what career you have,” Harry comforted, reaching out to take Louis’ hand in his own. “Besides, if it wouldn’t have been for Landon, we wouldn’t have met.”

“That’s very true,” Louis agreed, smiling.

“And you wouldn’t wear chaps,” Harry added as an afterthought.

That pulled a boisterous laugh out of Louis. “Harry, I swear to god, if you don’t tell me what your obsession is with those chaps I’m never going to wear them again.”

Harry gasped, sitting back and nearly knocking his glass of wine off the table. “You wouldn’t dare,” he whispered, eyes filled with horror.

“Oh, but I would, love,” Louis promised, smirking. 

“I can’t say it. ’S not appropriate for this romantic setting,” Harry maintained.

“Oh? And here I thought you were a good boy,” Louis tisked, shaking his head and sitting back in his chair with his arms folded. 

“Shut up, you!” Harry laughed, throwing a small piece of chicken at Louis.

“Oi! This is one of me favorite shirts!” Louis protested, but laughter was already spilling from his lips as he launched a clump of potato mash at Harry. 

Harry squawked in indignation, the lump plastering itself onto his cheek. 

Louis threw his head back, delicate hand covering his mouth in an attempt to muffle his laughter. Which failed. Miserably. 

“You know,” Louis panted, catching his breath. “For an educated, seemingly mature young man like yourself, you sure are wild sometimes, Harold.”

Harry pouted, wiping the food from his cheek with a napkin. “Yeah, well, I guess you’re bringing out the messy bitch in me.”

This sent Louis into hysterics again and this time Harry joined in. Harry knew it wasn’t that funny of a joke, but the buzz from being together like this was enough to make them both giddy like children, and Harry felt like for once in his life he could really entrust someone with who he was. A surge of love flowed through Harry as he looked at Louis who was quieting down, eyes completely piercing into him, pulling him in.

Harry gravitated toward him, leaning slowly and subconsciously towards his date, eyes trained on how Louis was wetting his lips. 

Reaching towards the back of Harry’s neck, Louis pulled him in with a firm, but gentle grip. Harry savored the sensation of having Louis’ hand encompass the nape of his neck, and then the soft press of Louis’ thin lips against his own. It was tender and both of them were smiling softly. Harry let out a quiet sigh, feeling as though he couldn’t relax properly without Louis’ mouth against his own. Because they belonged together, and Harry needed Louis’ immediacy as much as he needed oxygen to breathe.

Louis pulled back and pecked him twice before they melded their lips together again, the urgency that Harry felt to bring Louis closer growing with each second that ticked by. Deciding to take matters into his own hands, literally, Harry placed a hand on each side of Louis’ face, cradling his cheeks, and brought him as close as he could get with the table between them. Louis made a small noise and pulled away from Harry, nipping at his bottom lip before sitting back. 

“Bed,” was all he said, caressing Harry’s wrists as Harry still was thumbing over both of Louis’ cheekbones. 

It may have been just one word but that’s all Harry needed to stumble out of his chair, taken aback by how unsteady kissing Louis for so short a time made him. Louis moved in sync with Harry, not letting his wrist go, but also not letting Harry get very far before he tugged him around so he could pull him into another kiss. 

This time it was a lot more driven, a lot more heated and both men groaned when their tongues met, tasting the same mixture of the wine and food they’d consumed. Harry wanted Louis to consume  _ him _ now, though. Growing impatient, he stepped backward until the backs of his knees hit the side of the tiny bed, neither of them breaking the kiss. 

Louis pushed Harry down and immediately straddled him, and Harry broke the kiss to admire the soft glow of Louis’ hair illuminated by the candle light behind him. He stroked a hand through it, mussing it up and not caring because the feeling of it against his fingertips, soft and silky, just like Louis’ tongue that was now licking up Harry’s neck, was unbelievable. Harry was leaning against the wooden wall, head rubbing against the rough texture as Louis left a blazing trail of kisses up the other side of his neck until he fused their lips together again. He slipped his tongue into Harry’s mouth straight away, Harry pliant and panting under Louis’ ministrations. His hands roamed over Louis’ strong back, the muscles tense, moaning at how good having Louis encompass him with his thick thighs felt. Louis bit Harry’s lip as his hands smoothed over Louis’ thighs, and Harry let out a groan of pleasure as Louis soothed the pain away by licking over it.

“You like that, love?”

Harry moaned in reply as Louis did it again, only this time he pulled Harry’s bottom lip with him as he moved back and then forth again, his swollen lip held tightly between Louis’ sharp teeth. Harry could almost come at the heated gaze that Louis fixed him with afterward, his blue eyes dark with an edge that made Harry’s head spin.

“Like the pain?” Louis rasped, ducking to nip sharply right under Harry’s jaw, his head rubbing harder into the wall as he allowed his chin to be tipped back. 

“Love the pain,” Harry breathed. _Love you,_ he almost admitted. “Feels so good, please, make it feel good, Lou.” Harry was clinging to Louis’ thighs now, fingernails digging into denim to try and ground himself, try to keep himself latched to reality as Louis’ mouth threatened to send him into space, into airy depths he didn’t know existed until now. 

“Always gonna make it feel good for you,” Louis promised, and Harry shivered, both at the sensation of Louis’ hot breath tickling his ear and at the conviction he heard in Louis’ tone.

The next sharp bite was right above Harry’s collarbone, Louis’ sharp canines pressing into the baby soft skin there and Harry let out a loud whine, cock twitching. The pleasure became dizzying when Louis didn’t let up, only made an approving noise at the back of his throat as he sucked the sensitive skin into this mouth, tongue laving over it, making it wet with spit. Harry’s hands frantically moved over Louis’ body, groping as he gasped for air, trying to find some sanity in the midst of the overwhelming sensations. It was hopeless because Louis had set to work on his collarbones now, not letting up and it wasn’t long before Harry was bucking his hips up into Louis, whining and whimpering from the relentless shocks of pleasure that shot through his body straight to his dick as the pain Louis was causing with his mouth continued.

For a split second, Louis seemed to be caught off guard, hissing when Harry’s hard, clothed cock rubbed briefly against his own throbbing erection, and Harry was worried he’d done something wrong. 

It turned out to be the exact opposite as Louis pinned Harry down with his hips and eyes, the blue a thin ring around his large pupils that Harry wanted to fall into, disappear into the void and build a home for himself there. When Louis started grinding his hips into Harry’s, he choked out a gasp, loud in the quiet loft, unprepared for the relentless rhythm and delicious friction that came from feeling Louis’ erection bearing down against his. Harry wanted to suck each and every puff of breath that Louis was releasing from his lips into his own mouth, breathe the recycled air Louis was releasing, wanted nothing to touch or surround him unless it was Louis giving it to him. Letting out soft grunts and breaking their eye contact every now and again to close his eyes, overwhelmed with pleasure, Louis placed a palm against the wall and used the other one to rub over one of Harry’s hardened nipples. 

“Oh my, fuck,” Harry cried out, muscles tensing with pleasure and hands gripping onto Louis’ swiveling hips. 

“Look at you,” Louis huffed, using his free hand to card through Harry’s curls, thumb rubbing over the tiny beads of sweat that had collected on his forehead. “You’re getting all worked up, so pretty for me.”

Harry let out what sounded like a pained exhale, which it was, because hearing Louis use  _ that _ voice on him when he was rubbing their cocks together and not initiating anything further when all Harry wanted was to taste him, to feel his naked skin, was truly excruciating. 

“What d’you want, baby?” Louis asked, accent thicker and more prevalent, voice slurred. 

Harry knew he wasn’t drunk this time, knew he was sounding like that because he was just as overcome by lust as Harry was, and nothing made Harry feel more good about himself than knowing he had that effect. 

Harry also knew that Louis had asked him a question, but he’d lost it as soon as it left Louis’ slick, red mouth. He was looking up at Louis reverently, body being shifted with each movement of Louis’ own against him, weak with longing and too overwhelmed by the echoes of Louis’ harsh breaths and cut off groans ricocheting through his head and the sinful sight of him moving above him to latch onto anything except for all the things Louis was causing him to feel. 

Something seemed to click in Louis’ brain before he moved back from Harry. The loss of heat and stimulation was so sudden, Harry let out a pathetic groan. 

“S’alright, just wanna feel you bare,” Louis reassured, voice no louder than a murmur. 

This did nothing to calm Harry down, the words reaching a functioning part of his brain that wasn’t drunk with lust, and in turn, setting him off. 

“Yes, yes, Lou, yes,” he panted out in one exhale, the phrase “feel you bare” echoing in his head like a mantra until he was delirious with it, ripping off his own shirt quickly so he could get right back to focusing on Louis’ now naked torso. 

He was covered in a light sheen of sweat, skin shining like actual gold, the candles in the room lighting him up in such a soft light that he looked ethereal and Harry wondered for a second if he wasn’t just dreaming. 

“No, love, this is real,” Louis said, running his hands down the planes of Harry’s chest.

Shit, he must have said that out loud. 

“God, you’re so fucking gorgeous, Harry, absolutely stunning,” Louis mused, rubbing his palms over the laurels on his hips. 

Harry was squirming, getting sweatier with every passing minute that Louis just sat there, looking too edible for Harry’s own good and not paying Harry’s throbbing cock any attention. Just as he was about to do something about it, Louis suddenly bent down to latch onto Harry’s hard nipple while simultaneously pushing his hand down Harry’s jeans and under his pants to wrap around his length, causing Harry to accidentally slam his head against the wall, the ache Louis was causing by nipping and sucking on it going straight to Harry’s leaking dick and driving him absolutely mad. 

“ _ Oh, _ Louis, god--ah!” Harry yelped, nails raking through Louis’ hair as he flicked his tongue over Harry’s nipple. 

Louis grazed his teeth over it, before taking it between his teeth and sending another jolt of pleasure through Harry as he nipped sharply so when he pulled back the skin was red and puffy. Harry’s chest was heaving, not getting enough oxygen as Louis kissed and sucked his way to the other nipple, one hand just simply smoothing over Harry’s love handles while the other deftly unbuckled Harry’s jeans and freed him of the denim confines. And Harry really couldn’t take it anymore, had been trying not to writhe his way off the bed, but he was impatient and his mouth was parched and he wanted the weight of Louis’ cock on his tongue, wanted to feel how heavy he’d be in his mouth.

Just as Louis was biting down on his other nipple, Harry made a spectacular show of petulance, raking his blunt nails up Louis’ smooth back and trying to buck up into Louis, whining long and loud.

Louis ignored him in favor of sitting back and taking in the sight of Harry’s hard shaft in his hand, the skin an angry red and shining with smeared precome.

“Jesus, Harry, you’re so wet, loveliest cock ‘ve ever seen.”  

Louis gave him a stroke and a kitten lick on the head, and Harry’s eyes rolled back. “ ‘Ve got to tell me what you want,” Louis ordered.

“ _Oh,_ _Louis,_ need you, need to taste you,” Harry pleaded, voice airy, trying desperately to get Louis to move his hips again.

“ ‘M right here--”

“No, your cock, wanna--need to suck you off,” Harry sobbed, hands flying to pull at his own hair, frustration bubbling up in him. 

Louis sucked on his head before releasing it with a pop, eyes studying the work he’d done on Harry’s nipples, the buds irritated and sore. Fixing Harry with a devilish grin, Louis kissed him fervently, their lips becoming slick again as he fucked his mouth with his tongue, both breathing messily through their noses, not wanting to detach from each other. When Harry snuck a hand down to cup the bulge protruding obscenely from Louis’ jeans, Louis pulled away with a sharp inhale, knocking Harry’s hand away and giving him a cheeky grin. He shuffled forward, slowly unbuckling his belt, his crotch level with Harry’s face in the slumped position he’d fallen into. 

“This? This what you want, baby?” Louis teased, slowly undoing his belt. 

Harry couldn’t take his eyes off of Louis’ movements, the anticipation killing him. He felt overheated, knew he was flushed red and probably looked proper spaced out, mouth hanging open slightly, eyes wide and tears of frustration threatening to spill over.  

When Louis had gotten the belt unbuckled, Harry couldn’t take it anymore, shoving Louis’ hands away with a grunt and making quick work of undoing his jeans and pulling them down, glancing up at Louis and instantly congratulating himself for being so great with his hands. 

Louis was looking down at him with what Harry could only recognize as admiration, closing his eyes briefly to savor the feeling of his hands in his hair, stroking slowly through, grazing his blunt nails on Harry’s scalp. But Harry had a one track mind and soon enough he had Louis’ pants pulled down to his thighs, eyes taking in the sight of Louis’ cock before him for the first time. 

_ “Pretty,”  _ Harry slurred, his brain-to-mouth filter completely disintegrated in his lust hazy state. 

He could hear Louis chuckle from above, felt Louis’ hand caress his ear, but refused to take his eyes off of the red, leaking cock that he had his hand wrapped around. Louis was thick and Harry’s mouth was practically watering from the desire to get his lips wrapped around him, to taste the precome leaking from his slit. 

Looking up at Louis, Harry licked a fat stripe up his cock, and took in the sight of Louis tipping his head back, whispering a curse and clearly trying to remain calm as he scraped his nails into Harry’s scalp harder. Their eyes met again as Harry took the tip into his mouth, sucking gently on it and moaning at the faint taste of Louis’ pre-come on his tongue. 

“Oh, jesus christ, Harry,” Louis groaned, voice scratchy and getting slightly more high pitched. 

Harry closed his eyes as he stroked Louis up and down, gaze glued on Louis’ reactions, trying to figure out what he liked best. As he picked up the pace of his strokes, he ducked down to take Louis’ balls into his mouth, sucking and kissing the sensitive skin until it was absolutely wet with saliva and he could hear Louis’ breaths were getting loud and labored, no longer as controlled as before. Pausing the movements of his hand, he licked a wet and slobbery stripe up from Louis’ balls all the way to the head of his cock, moaning the whole way. Louis had gathered Harry’s hair in a sort of ponytail now and Harry’s own neglected erection twitched with the harsh involuntary tug that he received upon taking Louis into his mouth, being careful not to scrape Louis with his teeth. 

“Bloody hell, ah, fuck,” Louis croaked, eyes squeezed shut as Harry began bobbing his head, moaning all the while.

A sort of calm came over Harry, the frantic need he felt before was sated once he got his mouth around Louis, ironically feeling like he could finally breathe once his nose was almost buried in the damp curls at the base of Louis’ cock, where all he could inhale was Louis’ pungent musk. 

Louis let out a choked off moan at the sensation of Harry taking him so deep and then pulling off only to swallow him down again. Harry was happy to see the other man was gazing down at him again, eyes dark and half-lidded, a stormy sky. He wanted Louis to see how wrecked he was for him, how much he wanted him in every way, didn’t care about the ache in his own balls, the urge to touch himself, as long as he could give Louis pleasure, as long as _ Louis _ was feeling good. 

When Harry pulled off again, trying to take in deep breaths, a line of saliva connected him to Louis. Louis’ thumb smoothed over Harry’s puffy, abused lips, and he leaned into the touch before being met with resistance when he tried to slide Louis back in his mouth. He whined at the strong grip Louis had on his hair, keeping him just close enough to the head of his cock that he could lick it, could taste his own spit on it. His brow furrowed, feeling an urge to brush away the tears on his cheeks, because he wanted to be pretty for Louis, but the feeling losing to the need to have his mouth full of Louis again. 

As if reading his mind, Louis kept a firm hold on Harry’s hair while stroking his slack jaw, hanging open, ready for Louis’ cock, and said, “So pretty like this, baby, all messy ‘cause you love cock so much.”

This caused Harry to squirm, letting out a small noise as he tried and failed to lick properly at Louis’ flushed cock just teasingly hanging in front of his mouth. He compromised by jacking Louis off frantically, needing to have a hand on him, needing to touch him intimately somehow, even if he couldn’t with his mouth. 

“God, look at you. Practically gagging for it, aren’t ya? Want my cock so badly, hm, love?”

“Lou, yes, Lou, please, please, _ ung, please,”  _ Harry whined high in his throat, voice so gravelly he barely recognized it himself, feeling a tug of arousal deep in his belly at Louis’ heated words, wanting so badly to call him daddy, to be Louis’ perfect, pretty baby, to let himself float away. 

But in the rational part of his brain, he knew he had to keep it to himself. He didn’t want to distract from the matter at hand, in case Louis was uncomfortable with that, only wanted to give his date the most unforgettable orgasm possible. 

Harry tried his best to lick away the blurt of precome that spilled from Louis’ cock and Louis weakened his grip on Harry letting him sloppily take him down his throat again before focusing on bobbing his head quickly back and forth, one hand stroking the rest of his length in time with the rhythm of his mouth, while his other hand squeezed into Louis’ arse cheek, the meaty flesh quivering beneath Harry’s touch. 

Louis returned to stroking through Harry’s now tangled mess of curls, moans getting progressively louder when Harry would suck especially hard on the crown of his cock, or when his hand would tease his sensitive balls, rubbing on them. 

“Naughty boy, you are,” Louis choked out, and Harry moaned in return, eyes lazily opening to meet Louis’, feeling high off of having the salty taste of Louis on his tongue. 

“Yeah, you’re a naughty boy, coming up here and breaking the rules to get me off with your gorgeous mouth.”

The harsh breathing and raspy noises as well as the words spilling from Louis’ mouth only spurred Harry on more. 

“Thought you were a good boy, hm?” 

Harry pulled off with a pop, not caring that his chin was glistening with spit and his voice was breathy and rushed, considering he hadn’t taken a break to catch his breath. “ ‘m a good boy, your good boy.”

And Harry wasn’t prepared for it, but Louis sat down on Harry’s thighs and captured his lips in a fervent kiss, thumbs stroking through the tear tracks on his cheeks, tongue dipping into his mouth. When he pulled away he kept his hands on Harry’s face and Harry felt like a god with how Louis was looking at him, like he was the best thing that had ever happened to him, like he couldn’t take his eyes off Harry even though he was sticky and tear stained and flushed down to his chest. 

“Yeah? You think you’re a good boy for me?” Louis breathed, before repositioning himself and feeding Harry his cock, Harry picking up the pace again. 

Harry hummed around Louis’ thick girth, wanting to confirm that, yes, yes, he was a good boy. But only for Louis, and only because he was completely and totally in love with him, would give him his life if he asked for it. 

It wasn’t long before Louis was letting out a string of curse words and pulling on Harry’s hair as a warning to pull off. Harry stubbornly resisted, and this was the only time he  _ could _ resist Louis, because he needed the warmth of Louis’ come, needed the taste. The pricks of pain that came from what Harry was sure was Louis’ subconscious hair-pulling, sent Harry tumbling further toward orgasm, feeling so worked up over Louis’ dirty talk, so overwhelmed by his controlled dominance, the fact that Louis naturally seemed to know just what to say or do to make Harry feel how he always felt like he  _ could _ feel during sex if someone had only taken time to study him. 

As Louis shuddered and came with a shout, skin damp and glowing with sweat in the lowlight, head thrown back in ecstasy as he lost himself in pleasure, Harry pulled off enough to swallow without choking, savoring the bitter, hot taste of Louis’ come. The sharp bite of Louis’ nails digging into the nape of his neck, along with having witnessed the sight and sound of Louis coming so hard he was trembling had Harry coming, slack-jawed and heavy-lidded, not wanting to take his eyes off of Louis even as his own body jerked with the force of his orgasm, and he let out high pitched, breathy whines. 

Abruptly, Louis was right there, sitting on top of him, panting heavily and covering Harry’s face and neck with gentle kisses. “Fuck, Harry. Did you just come untouched? Oh my god, Harry. God, you’re so fucking hot, that was amazing, my pretty baby,” Louis murmured, smoothing his hands all over Harry, peppering his hairline with kisses. 

“Good for you?”

“Hm, what’d you say, love?” Louis asked, looking him in the eye. 

Harry tried to collect his thoughts, tried clearing his throat, curling his toes and feet against each other in embarrassment because Louis probably had already forgotten what words they’d exchanged, probably didn’t pay attention to what was said during sex as much as Harry. But he couldn’t unlatch from that phrase, needed to know if he was Louis’ good boy. 

Noticing Harry’s hesitance, Louis pecked him on the mouth, then opened him up to slip his tongue in, caressing his jaw ever so gently. When he pulled away, Harry was still timid, but the way Louis’ eyes weren’t leaving his, so full of emotion and what Harry hoped was love, was enough to get him to utter the words, “Am I your good boy?”, in a small voice. 

Louis’ lips formed one of the gentlest smiles Harry had seen yet, eyes concerned and serious. “Oh, baby, yes, of course. You’re the best boy, me special, precious boy. So wonderful, Harry. So gorgeous when you get desperate for it, love. Want to explore that with you, discuss it properly and ‘m so sorry, love, if I pushed you too much. I’m normally not so intense, but, I mean, it’s different when I’m with you. You did so well, love. Made me feel so good, think you sucked me brains out through me dick.”

Harry giggled but he could have cried, he really could have. Because Louis said he did good, told him he was his, _ his boy _ and it was like all the anxiety he didn’t realize he was holding in left his body with a single exhale. Not only that, but his blood simmered with excitement upon hearing that Louis wanted to  _ explore _ what they did more with him. 

“Didn’t push me too much, Lou. Never felt so good in my life,” Harry slurred, grinning dopily. 

And Louis resumed pecking him all over, pulled him closer, embracing him, and Harry closed his eyes, a stupid smile plastered on his face despite being sweaty, sticky, and laying on an old mattress that was in the loft of a barn. But he could be anywhere and feel content if Louis was there. Could be content as long as his boyfriend was with him. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I showered in holy water after writing this.


	9. Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the comments you've left, it really does mean a lot. And to my friend who this is dedicated to, your encouragement is everything to me!
> 
> My Tumblr url: andtheywerebandmates.

(Harry’s POV)

Harry’s eyes slid open sluggishly to the sound of quiet humming, everything still dim in the early morning light. Hot breath tickled the back of his neck in time with the pauses in the gentle humming, the sweet, barely-there melodious voice drawing a smile onto his lips, eyes fluttering closed again at the sensation of a warm palm rubbing lazy circles into the bare skin of his stomach.

Harry was more relaxed than he’d ever been in a long time--maybe forever. That voice, raspy and unused in the morning hour, belonged to Louis, the man he was already in love with, so deep in his affections towards him there was no return. Harry supposed that love didn’t care about how long you knew someone. It came on it’s own terms and Harry was eagerly welcoming it’s arrival into his heart, not for a second wanting to shove it away or try to ignore it. 

“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine,” Louis sang into his ear, his voice fading in and out as he tried to sing in a near whisper, before continuing to hum again. 

Harry’s eyes opened again at the sound of his voice, so lovely in it’s softness, and he looked up at the sunflowers still sitting on the bedside table, bright as ever. 

“Baby’s awake?” Louis asked, though it sounded more like a statement. 

Harry shut his eyes quickly, not wanting Louis to stop the dizzying movement of his palm, nor the humming. He pushed himself back into the heat that radiated off of Louis’ half naked body, both of them in just their pants. 

They had been so sleepy and satisfied last night after their intimate date that they’d re-dressed, hurried back to the house--Harry almost falling four times in his hazy state, even with Louis guiding him carefully--re-undressed, and fell right to sleep on Harry’s cloud of a mattress. 

Louis giggled, brushing Harry’s untamed curls behind his ear and stroking the soft skin of his cheek. 

Harry was trying not to smile, failing miserably at pretending to be asleep. 

“Oh, he sleeps again,” Louis whispered, pressing a kiss as light as a feather to Harry’s cheekbone.

Harry’s stomach felt cold without Louis’ palm rubbing shapes into it and he’d stopped singing. He fought back the urge to huff at the loss of the touches and sounds. He knew Louis already knew he was just pretending to be asleep, so he took the hand that was  _ supposed _ to be on his belly but was stroking through his hair and put it in it’s rightful place.

At the feel of Louis’ breathy chuckle, a small smile stretched over his lips. 

“I was wrong, baby is awake,” Louis teased. 

Harry _ loved _ the way Louis was being so soft with him, like he was a glass doll that could break at too rough a touch or sound. But he  _ hated _ that Louis wasn’t resuming the ministrations on his stomach, nor was the lulling sound of his humming filling his ear. 

“Baby’s not awake,” Harry murmured, surprised at how syrupy slow his voice was, the words dripping lazily into one another. 

“Oh, he’s not?” Louis asked, and Harry treasured the feeling of having Louis’ eyes on him and the occasional brushes of Louis’ cute button nose against his own nose or back of his neck. 

If he was any good at drawing he would make a poster sized sketch of just Louis’ nose and put it up in his room. That was probably weird to admit out loud so Harry vowed to himself he wouldn’t blurt it out to even his sister whom he shared everything with. 

“No. But if he was, baby would say that he can’t relax without Da--” Harry abruptly ended the sentence before the rest of that word could tumble out of his mouth and cause an avalanche that would take away any chance of having Louis’ hands on him again. “A certain someone massaging his tummy and humming to him,” he breathed out, heart pounding. 

Being with Louis was way too easy. He made it too easy to let go of his inhibitions, too easy to say whatever came to his maze of a mind. It just felt like it was natural to call Louis his Daddy, to refer to him as that, especially with how much Louis seemed to love calling him baby. Harry kind of wanted to cry at the urge to call him that and not knowing whether he should forever keep that to himself or not. He’d never wanted to call anyone else that. He’d only given Louis one blowjob and suddenly it was like Harry wanted all the things he was afraid to ask for in his previous, short relationships, not that he even knew at the time that that was what he wanted--no,  _ needed-- _ in a relationship, to give himself over completely to one person. Trusting Louis may have been the best and worst thing Harry could’ve done. 

When Harry felt like he was about to start losing his mind, Louis’ hand resumed it’s previous slow, but intentional, circles over Harry’s skin, soothing his racing mind in an instant. 

“Is this what baby wants?” Louis asked, placing a kiss on Harry’s temple. 

“Mhm,” Harry hummed. 

“What baby wants, baby will always get,” Louis said, the words having more weight to them than was expected. 

Focusing only on his belly massage, Harry curled in on himself and pushed his back further into Louis’ chest. Louis’ humming was interrupted by breathy laughs when Harry said, “You’re toasty.”

“I think I’m just stealing your body heat. Normally I wake up cold in my bed. It’s one of the reasons I hate mornings so much. If I could wake up like this everyday, though...well, I wouldn’t mind them as much,” Louis mused. 

“You can steal my body heat anytime you want,” Harry sighed, a happy little smile on his face as he focused on Louis’ soft touch, imagining one day having a baby in his stomach and Louis’ hands soothing over the swell of his stomach, both of them laughing at the feel of a hand or foot kicking at Louis’ touches. 

Getting ahead of himself was far too easy when Louis acted as if they had infinity to be together. 

“Careful what you say, I might never sleep in my bed again,” Louis spoke into Harry’s bare shoulder, placing light kisses in a circle. 

Harry’s grin matched the one that Louis was pressing into his skin, small and amused, before he turned around in his boyfriend’s arms--he still couldn’t believe he could call him that now--and bopped his nose into Louis’.

“I’d be offended if you did. Having a bed being chosen over me would be a huge blow to my fragile little heart, especially when  _ I _ can heat you and your bed  _ can’t.” _

Louis only chuckled, pulling his head back to better gaze Harry in the eyes. “Well, now that you demand it, I could never choose my bed over sleeping with my glorious,” a kiss over the hickey on Harry’s collarbones, “lucious,” a bite on the butterfly tattoo, “smooth,” a lick over a laurel tattoo, “perfect baby,” Louis finished, looking up at Harry from where he’d scooted himself down his body, face level with Harry’s already half-hard cock. 

“ _ Louis, _ ” Harry breathed, maybe a warning, maybe a plea, Harry didn't know himself.

He really shouldn’t be  _ this _ affected  _ this _ quickly, but Louis’ touch was like some type of hard drug--once you got a taste, you were addicted and merciless to the immediate effects that came with a large dose of it. And he never took Louis in small doses.

Louis brushed his cheek along the fully hard line of Harry’s cock in his pants, before giving Harry a cheeky wink and pulling his pants down to expose Harry, freeing him from the cotton confines. 

“What’s baby up to, today, hm?” Louis asked, tone light, as if they were having afternoon tea, only the distinct quality his voice took on that Harry was now guessing it possessed when Louis was turned on throwing off the casual demeanor. 

As Louis licked his palm and took Harry in his hand, stroking up and down lazily, eyes not leaving Harry’s, Harry tried to calm his breathing. Honestly, if Louis thought he could get Harry to converse with him at this moment in time, when shivers were spreading through Harry’s skin and his hips were twitching with the need to buck up into the friction, he was certifiably insane. Mad. 

But it was a challenge Louis was putting him up to, and Harry would rise to it--pun intended.

Brushing his hands over his face, abs tensing as he tried to sift through the tangle of thoughts that only became more knotted with each swipe of Louis’ hand over his length, he replied, “Um, um, baby’s getting a cock.”

With a quick and abrupt lick up the underside of Harry’s dick, Louis smiled, the perfect picture of cool as Harry trembled on the bed, letting out a shaky, little ‘oh’. 

“No, baby’s getting head,” Louis replied, _ corrected, _ more like. 

“Oh, yes,” Harry breathed out, voice small with the strain of keeping himself still under Louis’ attention, hand still moving over him. His previous train of thought was derailed with that one simple sentence.

“Yeah, baby,” Louis agreed, but his hand fell away and Harry felt frantic with the need to have it back on him. “But later. ‘Ve got to get to work.”

He opened his eyes to look at Louis who was now hovering over him, eyes wide with the realization that he was not, in fact, going to get any release. He’d be stuck with his own, inadequate touch, enough to get him off, but not enough to satisfy him. 

“Louis?” Harry almost whined. 

If he had more dignity he’d be ashamed at how desperate he sounded, how easily he became putty in Louis’ hands. But the heated look that it produced in Louis’ eyes, like that was how he liked Harry best, only encouraged him. 

“Harry? Answer me honestly,” Louis commanded, the energy in the room shifting as Louis’ forehead creased with concern, “are you okay with--do you--” he cut himself off, sitting back on his haunches and gazing at Harry, assessing him, seeming to notice how Harry hung on every word that slipped from Louis’ mouth. 

“Do you like being controlled? I mean,” he paused, swallowing. “In bed.”

Suddenly, the room felt ten times hotter, Harry’s tongue swiped away dewy sweat that had collected above his upper lip when he tried to wet his dry lips, throat feeling rough, like he’d swallowed sand. He knew the answer he wanted to give, but he didn’t know what Louis was expecting and he couldn’t gauge the reaction he’d get if he finally opened up and laid himself bare before Louis, the type of naked that went beyond the physical. No, this was cutting open his scalp and letting the soft light of the morning that was growing in intensity with time shine onto the thing he’d buried deep into the darkness so even he himself didn’t have to stumble upon it. 

It hadn’t been as scary last night. This question was probing, both of them more clear headed as they weren’t focused on each other’s need to get off and though Louis had spoken last night in a way that gave Harry a bit of an inkling as to how he’d react if Harry told him what he wanted, he couldn’t be sure. 

In the end, it was a small gesture--Louis’ nimble fingers brushing a stray strand of hair away from his eyes to tuck it behind his ear, before letting his thumb brush over the dark hickeys that littered Harry’s collarbones, touching him with such care--that pushed Harry to allow his head to move up and down in a jerky fashion, and exhaling more than saying the word ‘yes’.

Louis let out a tiny breath, shoulders losing a tension that Harry hadn’t noticed was there. Leaning down, he gave Harry a kiss, one that promised more and tasted of relief. After pulling away, Louis leaned to whisper into Harry’s ear, “In that case, no touching yourself.  _ I’m _ to be the one who makes you come.”

The possessiveness, the firm tone of Louis’ voice made Harry shudder with need, mouth dropping open to suck in more breath because he swore that the oxygen in the room had been depleted somehow. 

With a sharp suck and nip on Harry’s earlobe, Louis gave Harry a smile, eyes doing a full body sweep over Harry’s naked form, before he hurried to his room to get ready for the day. 

“ _ Fuck, _ ” Harry whimpered, ribs expanding on a long, deep inhale and grabbing onto the rails of his headboard so he didn’t wrap a hand around himself and come a second later like he knew he could.

 

\----------------------------------------------------------

 

A freezing cold shower, a quick breakfast, an inappropriately and embarrassingly long stare at Louis’  _ arse _ in those _ fucking chaps _ , and a half hour drive later found Harry running errands in town and picking up the new pets that he couldn’t wait to show off to the lads, excitement mercifully distracting him from the Boner Of Doom that had thankfully shrunk away as he thought of what names he could give all the new hens and rooster that were secured in a crate in the back of the pick up truck. 

He found himself grinning from ear to ear, impatient to know what all the men thought of his new gang of feathered friends.

Upon arriving back, he was disappointed to remember that they’d all still be away from the barn for awhile, still hard at work in the pastures, probably fixing up fences and herding cows. 

Determined to make them all feel comfortable in their new home, Harry set to work, making sure the enclosure they’d be living in that he’d prepared a week prior to their arrival was still in good shape and filled with food and water. 

He planned on having them be free to roam the farm during the day, but brought the crates they were temporarily stuffed in into the pen so they knew that would be their home. 

“You have been freed!” He shouted, opening the crate, expecting them all to run free. 

Instead, a slow trickle of chickens emerged from the wooden confines, clucking apprehensively. 

Harry sat down in the grassy area, pouting. 

“Don’t worry, chickies, you’re safe. Go explore the world to your heart’s content!” 

A brown feathered hen timidly stepped into his space, eyeing him with her beady eye and cocking her head from side to side as if she was trying to figure out who Harry was. 

“Hello! Nice to meet you, ‘m Harry,” Harry greeted her, slowly reaching out a hand to pet her. 

Pleased to see she was warming up to him, he picked her up. “What do you think your name should be, hm? I’m thinking Hennessy would suit you quite nicely.”

The chicken let out a noise, startling Harry a bit. He leaned down to whisper, “Get it? ‘Cause you’re, like, a hen.”

He giggled as Hennessy gave him another look with her small eyes and rushed out of his loose grip. 

“ ‘S okay. Louis will find it funny,” he assured himself, getting up to release the rooster, as well. 

Considering the rooster had brightly colored tail feathers, Harry may have developed a small favoritism towards him, admiring how the sun glinted off the green-black of his feathers, making him look striking. 

“Hello, Mr. Rooster, Sir. Gonna have to think of a real good name for you, hm?” Harry picked him up, stroking through his feathers, liking his confident demeanor and how he wasn’t intimidated by Harry. 

They had a staring contest for a bit, Harry in deep thought, taking the naming process of his new pet cock very seriously. 

“Gerald,” he announced, raising the now distraught rooster in the air, just high enough to be considered a legendary moment but not so high as to give his new friend a heart attack. 

Setting him down, Harry stroked Gerald’s silky feathers and said, “We’re going to be great buds, Gerald. Louis will love you.”

The look on Louis’ face upon arriving back from working and putting Rogue away, some hours later, was not quite love, but shock, rather.

“Is that--Harry--Do you--Is that a  _ chicken?” _ Louis choked out, blue eyes wide in the dimming evening light. 

Harry looked up from where he’d been cooing to Gerald, introducing him to Queen Freddie. After finishing his work for the day he’d done some more gardening, letting the hens explore the yard while he pulled weeds and eventually gave Gerald a grand tour of the barn and house. 

“ ‘S my new pet cock,” Harry presented, grin so large his cheeks hurt. 

“That’s the pet you were talking about that you wouldn’t reveal to me?” Louis looked at him, face still unreadable. Then his face turned into some strange expression of shock. “Oh my god, you weren’t joking when you said you were getting cock,” he said more to himself than to Harry.

Harry nodded. “His name’s Gerald.”

“Oi, Harry what’s with all these chick--ah!” Niall’s voice came from a few feet away, tripping over a hen that clucked in an alarmed tone, rushing past Niall with her wings slightly spread. 

“Oh,  _ Hennessy, _ y’alright?” Harry called, eyes following the bird as she scurried off to the coop.

“You named a chicken _ Hennessy?” _ Louis said, disbelief coloring his tone.

“Yeah, like, you know, Hennessy? ‘Cause she’s a hen,” Harry explained, grinning toothily. 

“That is quite clever, Hazza, I’ve got to hand it to you,” Louis chuckled. 

“Yeah, don’t worry about me, I’m fine! ‘S not like I was just almost annihilated by one of your stray chickens,” Niall huffed. 

“This has got to be one of the most bizarre things I’ve ever seen,” Liam mumbled to Zayn as the two of them joined the other three. 

Truthfully, Harry supposed it would be a bit odd to see a dozen chickens running to and from the coop, exploring their new home, when before there were none. He hadn’t really given them any warning. 

“Yeah, so, Harry apparently got chickens, and this is his new cock, Gerald,” Louis clarified to the men looking around at the sight of the yard littered with strutting hens. 

“Hey, Lou, did he name yours, too?” Zayn snickered, nudging Louis’ shoulder. 

“So immature,” Louis sighed, rolling his eyes as a smile threatened to break over his face.

“How predictable--Harry being surrounded by birds and choosing the cock over all of them,” Niall teased, picking up one of the hens as it started pecking at his boots. 

Harry liked the smile that spread over Niall’s sunburnt face as the chicken studied him. 

“Naturally,” he replied to him, his attention now focused on Louis coming closer to give Gerald a pet. “So, lads, these wonderful hens will be giving us fresh eggs and you’d better get used to them running around, because I don’t want them caged or in their coop for too long everyday,” Harry explained to the four other bewildered men. 

“That’s good of you, H. I like your mentality and that you’ll be keeping them around for the eggs and not for the meat,” Zayn said, leaning on Liam tiredly, worn out from another long day. 

“Shh, Zayn, they might hear you,” Harry said, eyes widening as he tried to cover Gerald’s head with his large hand. 

“Alright, enough theatrics for the day, you little farmer. Nice to meet you, Gerald,” Louis waved goodbye to the rooster. “Harold, I’m off to bed.”

“Oh, so are we,” Harry nodded, following Louis’ already retreating form.

“ _ Not _ with the cock, Harry,” Louis asserted without looking behind him, continuing into the house. 

Harry could hear the amusement in his voice, making the command soft around the edges.

“Fine,” he sighed, pouting as he said goodnight to the lads before herding his new gang of fowl into the coop, setting Gerald down with extra special care.  

Turns out Louis hadn’t planned on going to bed right away, as he had the telly on in Harry’s room when Harry had finished preparing for bed.

“Fancy a movie night, love?” Louis asked, raspy voice causing shivers to run down Harry’s back. 

“Yes, please,” Harry grinned, slipping under the thin, crisp and clean sheet that his boyfriend had snuggled under, his back propped up against pillows, smelling clean and strongly of mint body wash.

They picked  _ Love, Actually  _ and Harry had laid his head onto Louis’ lap, eyes heavy-lidded as pin-pricks of pleasure surged through his body with each scrape of Louis’ blunt nails over his scalp. Louis was finishing his dinner up, that Harry had cooked him, with one hand so he didn’t have to stop his ministrations to Harry’s scalp, a gesture of affection Harry returned by giving Louis’ sheet clad thigh little pecks every now and again. 

It was good, it was actually the best feeling in the world, an intimate moment he never thought he’d get to experience--being with someone he loved and being able to express it through small, silent touches that meant the world. Occasionally, Louis would make a funny remark and Harry would giggle into his thigh, muffling his laughter as Louis brushed his hair back from his face, tenderly. 

By the time the credits were rolling, they’d curled into each other, Harry secure in Louis’ arms. When Louis burrowed deep under the sheet and tugged Harry even closer, he couldn’t help voicing the stream of thoughts that had been going through his head since Louis had taken him on that butterfly filled first date.

“Y’know I never thought I’d be able to have this,” he murmured into Louis’ chest, ear pressed to his warm skin, listening to the steady beat of his heart. 

The stroking on his arm stopped in favor of rubbing little circles into his bicep instead. “Why’s that, Hazza?” Louis sounded solemn, thoughtful. 

Harry sighed, “ ‘Cause, like, in uni, everyone pegged me as some straight bloke, even though I only ever tried chatting up guys. A lot of the time, it’d end up with me finding out the other boy was straight after they’d already fucked me, clarifying it was a one time thing and I wasn’t wanted around and ‘better not mention this to anyone or you’ll be dealing with more than just a sore arse’.”

Louis shifted down, Harry’s head resting on his outstretched arm as he stroked Harry’s cheek and studied his eyes, seeing all of the untold pain and somehow making Harry feel like he was healing just with the gaze of concern that Louis was giving him.

“Please tell me none of those cunts took your virginity and left you feeling like you were nothing. You did say you never dated in high school,” Louis said, brows furrowing. 

“No, thank god. My arsehole would’ve been destroyed if I was a virgin when those men fucked me,” Harry tried to joke, but he knew he was transparent under Louis’ gaze. 

“You can’t possibly think I’d find you in pain funny, Harry. God, I want to kill them,” Louis whispered, eyes downcast, anger darkening the clear blue of his eyes.

“ ‘S alright, though, really, because I’m with you now and, like, my first relationship, though short, was with a lad named Nate who was, like, very kind and took my virginity very gently,” Harry joked, not wanting to be the source of Louis’ face clouding over the way it was now. 

Louis pulled Harry onto him, their hearts beating against each other, eyes locked in an intense stare that left Harry feeling exposed and yet, finally, understood. 

“You don’t have to joke with me,” Louis soothed. “Especially not when you’re hurting. I care about you, Harry, and if I ever had the chance I would murder those bastards. You’re not some toy to be played with. You’re special and loved and so very important. Why do you think I love listening to you talk about whatever comes to mind? It’s cause you’re one of the most interesting, intelligent people I’ve ever met and it makes me sick to my stomach to think that you ever had to deal with anyone treating you so horribly.”

Harry felt tears sting his eyes, the feelings of inadequacy he had buried down coming to the surface only to be washed away by the words Louis poured over him like water over a small flower struggling to grow in a dry spell. He was once again reminded of the sunflowers thriving in their glass vase by his bed. 

“Thank you,” he whispered, burying his face in Louis’ neck, inhaling deep and slow. 

“Listen to me,” Louis spoke softly, getting Harry to pull back and meet his eyes again. “You don’t have to thank me for caring about you. Loving you isn’t a chore.”

Harry’s eyes widened slightly, hoping Louis didn’t feel his heart skip a beat against his own chest. “You. . .You love me?”

Louis licked his parted lips, eyes a bit wide. He regained his composure quickly, soft smile on his face. “Loved you since the night you walked into the kitchen with your name scribbled on your pants. Love you even more now. I’ll keep loving you until you don’t want me anymore and even then I don’t think I could stop.”

Harry shook his head frantically. “Always want you, Lou, always, always, always.”

And he was pulled into a kiss so sweet and brimming with emotions he was surprised he didn’t cry at the things it made him feel, toes curling into the mattress with the way Louis moved his lips deftly against Harry’s.

“Always be my baby,” Louis hummed against his lips, hand roaming over his back to splay over the small swell of his bare arse cheek.  

Arousal swirled in Harry’s stomach, the small spark growing with each lick of Louis’ tongue into Harry’s mouth. Louis’ hand became bolder over Harry’s arse, while his free hand found Harry’s, intertwining them and gripping tightly. 

Louis became more persistent, Harry pushing back against his lips in hopes he could get just that little bit closer to his boyfriend, the magnetic pull between them almost palpable. 

When Louis’ fingers trailed up his crack, he let out a soft moan that Harry swallowed quickly, pulling the sound he released into his mouth with a fierce kiss, greedy to keep it alive inside of him. His heart clenched with the adoration he carried for Louis in it. 

Louis slid his middle finger over his hole again, and Harry couldn’t help the whimper that escaped him, arching into the touch. The movement shoved Harry’s half-hard dick into Louis who had chosen to go to bed in his pants, which, at the moment, quite irritated Harry. 

“I want them off,” Harry whispered, breaking away from their lip-lock. 

And as much as Harry really did want to focus on getting Louis naked like he already was, Louis kept petting at his puckered hole, humming in place of actually answering Harry, fingertip stroking over the sensitive skin, and he was no match for that as his hips bucked up into Louis involuntarily. 

Having someone touch him there after over six months of only having his own hand and toys to rely on felt heavenly, but the fact it was Louis was what made him fully hard, precome blurting out of the head, soiling Louis’ black pants as he started rutting against him with more urgency. 

Harry’s eyes closed, his breathing quickened, but he didn’t miss the unguarded expression of love on Louis’ face, jaw slack as he watched Harry get worked up. Harry heard the whispered curses that slipped from his mouth, followed by sharp intakes of breath and soft moans. 

Letting out a pathetic little moan, he bit into Louis’ peck when he squeezed Harry’s arsecheek particularly roughly. 

As good as it felt to grind himself against Louis, he knew it’d be even better if he could feel Louis’ hot skin against his bare cock. 

“L-Lou, Louis, mmph,  _ Louis,” _ he tried, disappointed he couldn’t get his brain to form the words he needed to convey his need. 

“What d’you need, baby?” 

“Said I want ‘em--want ‘em off,” he murmured, staring into Louis’ dark eyes, marveling at how he seemed to follow every little expression that crossed Harry’s face.   

Apparently, that was all it took for Louis to get into action, gently moving Harry onto his back, mid-kiss, shucking off his pants and hovering over Harry.

“D’you know what I want? I want to make you feel good,” Louis began, taking Harry in his hand and beginning to stroke without breaking their gaze, “my lovely Harry, precious baby.”

Harry felt like he was suffocating, losing breath with each word Louis spoke, each stroke up and down his sensitive cock. 

All he could do in answer was grip onto Louis’ biceps, plead yes, and kiss the living daylights out of him. 

Unlike last night, Louis moved slowly, despite the whimpers and little whines Harry let out, despite the obscene arching of his back to get Louis’ slick, splayed fingers further inside of him, thriving in the absolute freedom that was being under Louis’ control, subject to whatever action his nimble fingers took next. He clung to the anchor that was Louis’ eyes, never leaving Harry’s face, like it was his own anchor and if either of them looked away, they would sink, get lost in the sea of overwhelming sensations. 

And that almost did happen when Louis’ fingers found his spot, causing Harry’s eyes to flutter close and Louis’ free hand became his new anchor as he let out a groan too loud in the quiet night. 

“There, ‘s there, Louis, it’s there,” he panted, knuckles already white and aching from holding on to Louis’ hand so tight as he tried not to come.

“Shh, ‘ve got you, darling,” Louis cooed, kissing up Harry’s already red and bitten neck.

When he started stroking the spot, Harry’s brows furrowed, skin damp and sticky and overheated from taking so much pleasure with no release. 

“Fuck, you’re absolutely perfect. God, could watch you like this for hours. So pretty when you lose yourself, baby,” Louis spoke as Harry rode Louis’ fingers, biting his lip red with the effort to keep quiet. 

He didn’t succeed. 

“Need you, Lou, oh, fuck, _ now. _ Need you bare,” Harry managed to get out, Louis’ fingers still buried deep in his arse. 

Louis made some strange strangled noise and cursed. “Harry, love, you sure you want that?”

“Yes,  _ please!  _ I need it, I’m clean, on the pill, t-too-- _ oh, god,” _ he moaned, Louis’ fingers pressing mercilessly into his prostate.

“Okay, alright, yeah, I’m-I’m clean, too, wouldn’t ever do this if I wasn’t,” Louis rushed, breathless, lines forming on his forehead.

Harry whimpered at the loss of Louis’ fingers in him when he pulled them out but sat up on his forearms, determined to wipe away any anxiety Louis was having. 

“I trust you, Lou, I love you, know you wouldn’t hurt me,” he reassured, pulling Louis down for a kiss, breathing through his nose so he could concentrate on the soft texture of Louis’ lips pressed against his own. 

“Fuck, I love you, too. You’re everything to me,” Louis proclaimed after pulling away, brushing sweat off of Harry’s damp forehead. “Everything.” 

Harry couldn’t get enough of the way he always looked at him, as if he was looking through a camera lens, and Harry was the only subject he ever wanted to capture, to immortalize in a photograph. 

With the way Louis fumbled with the bottle of lube, hands tremoring slightly as he slicked himself up, Harry could tell his resolve to go slow was crumbling. 

Looking up from where he was admiring Louis’ thick girth, he found the other man already staring down at him, mouth open as he took in sharp breaths and released quiet noises of pleasure. 

Harry wasn’t prepared for the sensation of having the head of Louis’ cock nudge gently against his rim, lungs expanding on an overwhelmed inhale.

“Oh my fucking god,” Louis whispered as he pressed in little by little, so quiet Harry almost didn’t hear him. 

Mewling with the pleasant burn of Louis sliding into him, Harry pushed his heels into Louis’ clenched arse, gently encouraging him, a reminder that he was doing ok. Not that he needed to, since Louis was gauging all of his reactions despite his eyes threatening to droop closed at the sensation of being engulfed by Harry’s tight heat. 

“Oh my g--fuck, Harry,” Louis choked out once he was fully inside, “You’re so  _ tight.” _

“Been awhile-- _ Louis,”  _ he cried out, softly, his attempt at joking thwarted by Louis beginning to move his hips slowly, subjecting Harry to feeling him thoroughly.

He felt like someone had poured gasoline on him and then lit him ablaze, skin burning with the need to pull Louis in closer, eyes watering at the realization that they were doing this, uniting as one. It felt like a religious experience, feeling things on a new level he didn’t know existed before. Heart beating fast in his chest, he slipped a hand down Louis’ torso, feeling the tensing muscles in his abdomen beneath heated skin. As Louis picked up his pace, a line of determination in his brow, his hands roamed over Harry’s smooth legs, lifting one up and kissing up his calf, biting into the hairless skin so the imprints of his teeth were left behind after he pulled away. His hands smoothed down over Harry’s lifted legs to grab hold of the soft love handles he adored so much, squeezing into them as he found Harry’s prostate, cherishing the sound Harry released. 

The air filled with the sounds of their passion, Louis tilting his hips at a new angle to hit Harry’s spot with every forward thrust and it wasn’t long before he felt his balls tightening with the need to release. 

“ ‘M close, Louis,” Harry whimpered, causing Louis to redouble his efforts.

Tingles spread through his body to the tips of his fingers and toes, making him writhe and sob, overwhelmed by it all. 

“That’s it, love, just let go. God, so beautiful, love you so much, baby,” Louis groaned, hand finding Harry’s red and leaking cock and swiping over the skin quickly. 

His eyes followed his every move, like he was trying to figure out where to rest his eyes until they fell on Harry’s face, dark and hungry and so full of love.

Encouraged by Louis’ words and touch, Harry’s orgasm rippled through him, causing him to arch his back and let out loud whimpers of pleasure, face scrunching as emotions exploded through him, tears of euphoria falling from his eyes. 

Nothing could prepare him for the feeling of Louis emptying into him, hot come warming him from the inside and making his pleasure ten times greater. He opened his eyes just in time to witness the beauty that was Louis experiencing an orgasm, mouth open to take in shaky breaths as his hips stuttered with the intensity of it and then releasing a long groan that made Harry shiver beneath him. 

Louis fell onto his elbows above Harry, panting and glistening in the soft light of the bedside lamp, his lips capturing Harry’s in a soft union that felt so safe and comforting Harry never wanted it to end. 

Louis was gentle with pulling out, but Harry still felt the ache of emptiness, wishing he could keep Louis inside him forever, craving the warmth and weight of him. 

“I love you so much,” Harry whispered once Louis had settled next to him. 

He gathered Harry in his arms, wiping the damp curls away from his sweaty forehead and caressing his wet cheeks, not caring that the come on Harry’s stomach stuck to his own. 

“And I love you more than words can express,” Louis replied, smiling softly and kissing him on the forehead. 

“You trying to outdo my declarations of my undying love for you?” Harry giggled, fingers pinching Louis’ bum.

Louis laughed, pecking Harry’s lips. “Mhm, and I think I do a pretty good job of it.”

Louis smirked and Harry bit him playfully on the shoulder in retaliation.

  
  



	10. Ten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One word: smut.
> 
> Find me on Tumblr at andtheywerebandmates

(Louis’ POV)

 

It had been six months since Louis and Harry’s first date. Six months of cuddling, six months of dates that almost always ended up with them fucking loudly enough that it made the other men in the house give them the stink eye in the mornings, six months of learning all of Harry’s little facial expressions and what they meant, six months of laughing at Harry’s puns so hard the boys gave him shit for it at work, six months of encouraging Harry in bed and reassuring him whatever kinky thing he loved, Louis most likely would love, too. Six months of sleeping in the same bed, Louis’ room long since abandoned, and six months of Louis not being able to stop eating Harry’s irresistible leftovers. 

Though Louis knew that the moment he met Harry his life would be changed drastically in the best of ways, some things had not changed at all. Like the fact Louis always came in last to eat dinner and that Harry made food only for himself most nights, exhausted from sitting at a desk and burning his retinas by sitting in front of a bright computer screen all day. Apparently, what also didn’t change was Louis’ inability to stop eating Harry’s leftovers. 

He did it occasionally, now. Not enough that he would genuinely piss Harry off, though he was pretty sure he couldn’t ever really get angry at anyone over anything, Harry being the angel he was, but just enough that it was obvious there was still a food thief in the house.

Yes, Louis knew it was ridiculous. But he also knew that Harry’s food tasted amazing and he just felt so bad asking Harry if he could make something for him some nights. He didn’t want to put his boy through more work. So, especially now when the weather had become chilly, Louis was too tired to make himself a cold sandwich that wouldn’t warm his aching, frozen limbs like Harry’s soups or hot meals would. 

Harry’s room had been cluttered with so many apology sunflower bouquets during the summer that they’d both tripped over them more than once while trying to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night. But Louis couldn't help himself, especially with Harry going on and on about how much he loved them, even though he didn’t know who the sender was. He’d talk so softly to them, nose brushing the soft petals, telling them they were lovely and reminded him to be bright like them. He’d made flower crowns out of them, wearing them while weeding or tending to the chickens or even when they went out on dates in town. He’d photographed Louis in bed with them placed adoringly into his sex hair and in the dips of his collarbones. How could Louis stop delivering the wild flowers after all of that? 

Now, in the cold of November, Louis had no flowers to use as his apology. So instead he found little things that had sunflowers printed on them. A headscarf, a shirt, a bracelet with sunflower charms, you name it, Louis had found it with a sunflower somehow adorning it and had gifted it anonymously to Harry.  

Louis also had learned to make a decent breakfast as a way to make up for his nighttime crimes. For a few weeks, he’d slaved in the kitchen early in the morning two days after him and Harry had had sex for the first time just so he could perfect Harry’s favorite breakfast foods. He’d become quite good at it after that and the lost sleep was so worth it when he got to surprise Harry with it and watch him rock back and forth in a little happy dance as he munched his food each time. Louis noticed, quite smugly, that he never did that with anyone else’s meals--not even when they went out to eat.

Louis also noticed that Harry had become increasingly obsessed with baby things. So obsessed that Louis found parenting and baby books and magazines in almost every room of the house that wasn’t the ranch hands’. They were placed in inconspicuous spots but Louis always managed to find them, somehow. Once, he’d found one stuck under the couch cushion when he was looking for his car keys. Another time, he was searching for a report Harry had asked him to find in his filing cabinets for him and the magazine had been sitting there atop all of the files. 

Harry also had so many of the farm animals impregnated that Louis could hardly keep up with all of the cutesy names he’d chosen for the new arrivals. Half the chickens had laid fertilized eggs just that week and they’d hatched the cutest little chicklets Louis had ever seen. Queen Freddie was carrying a calf that was due in May of next year, and Harry had bought and brought a goat and her kid home last week, too. 

In Louis’ dreams there were chicks and calves and baby goats floating around in space with Harry’s slow voice spilling out name after name. 

Louis didn't want to dream of animals’ babies. He wanted to dream about his own baby, and even more than that he wanted to hold his own baby in his arms so he didn’t have to dream at all.

Today, it seemed that the something that Louis noticed had been brewing beneath the surface of Harry’s skin for the past couple months was threatening to break through. Louis first noticed it when Harry had started to muffle what he said into a pillow while Louis fucked him hard into the mattress, which was unlike him because Harry knew how much Louis got off on hearing his pleasured cries and pleas. Then, he noticed him obsessively studying himself in the full length mirror on the closet door in their bedroom. And there was the furious scribbling in his journal at midnight when he thought Louis was fast asleep and the phone calls to Anne he’d abruptly end when Louis walked into their bedroom, despite Louis asking if he could say hi and catch up on what Anne and Robin were up to.

Despite all of that, Harry seemed happy and content. He’d always answer Louis’ concerned question of if he was alright by kissing him tenderly and chirping, ‘Always happy when I’m with you, Lou!’. It frustrated Louis, but only because he could tell there was a strange unrest to Harry’s behavior, like how someone who’s dieting would act while standing in a candy shop. He knew Harry wanted to have a baby someday, talked about it often enough even though everything was always put hypothetically, so clearly, that couldn’t be it. Louis didn’t dare let himself hope that Harry wanted a baby now, and with Louis. It was too good to be true.   

Today, though, Harry was not chipper and kissing Louis and prancing to his coop of baby chickens. Today, Harry was brooding when Louis left to town to get groceries, it being his and Liam’s day off. He’d had more time with Harry ever since he’d hired Jack from the bar with the terrible photography skills. Louis didn’t know anyone could look more like a petulant child than Harry when he didn’t get his way until Niall had heard the news and stormed off to his room to shout curses to the walls. 

“Mate, what’s with your boy, today?” Liam asked, turning to Louis in the passenger seat of the truck.

Liam had decided to come along for the ride, needing to get his own errands done in town and meeting up with a friend later. 

“Wish I could tell you, but I really have no clue. It’s been going amazing but,” Louis paused, wondering if he should tell Liam all that he’d noticed about Harry. 

“But?” Liam asked, attention fully on Louis, now. 

That was what Louis really appreciated about Liam, he was always so eager to help with anything. He admired the amount of patience the other man had. 

“But...well, see, like, Harry, well, Harry’s been...Like. He’s just been weird?” 

“And that’s cause for concern? Lou, he’s always been weird.”

Louis shot him a look quickly before turning his gaze back to the road.

“C’mon, mate, you know I mean that in the best way possible. He’s a wonderful weird. But I’m sensing you mean like, weird weird?”

And, god, what Louis wouldn’t give to have normal adult conversations with his friends instead of the word vomit that always spilled from their mouths when they were together. He supposed all of them were weird when looking at it objectively.

“Yeah, weird weird. Like, not letting me talk to his mum and locking the door when he calls his sister and trying to be quiet during sex weird,” Louis sighed. 

“Yeah, ‘cause that would be such a bummer for all of us,” Liam grumbled. 

“You should be happy, proud even, to know what Harry sounds like during sex,” Louis huffed. 

“Um, no offense, but I will never be happy that I know what my _ boss, _ who’s also my _ friend, _ sounds like when he comes because my best mate is fucking him, let alone proud.  _ God,” _ Liam cringed, shuddering in his seat. 

“Whatever, point is, I feel like there’s something he’s been hiding from me that he needs to talk to me about. I mean why is he talking to his family and not me. Why can’t he tell me what’s going on? Not that I don’t want him to talk to his family, but I’d like to know what’s bothering him so much so I can help him, ya know?”

“Maybe what’s bugging him so much involves you, too. Like, if he talks to you about whatever it is he needs to, it could change your relationship. He’s probably scared, Louis. At least, sounds like it to me,” Liam shrugged, not knowing how else to help Louis. 

“Fuck, he should feel like he can talk to me whenever about whatever. I thought I’ve made that clear, but I guess I haven’t tried hard enough.”

“You know, when Zayn’s upset he goes real quiet and the only thing that helps open him up is to let him know I know something is bothering him and that he can be direct with me about it. Ya know, like, don’t beat around the bush,” Liam offered. 

It made sense, it really did. Louis thought about how he was always vague with asking Harry about how he was doing, showing concern on his face but never telling him he saw the little changes he was going through that seemed to be affecting him in big ways.

So, after stocking up on groceries, Louis had a determined set to his jaw and a plan in his head of how he could put Harry at ease.

When Louis returned, the house was empty, the other ranch hands out working and Liam in town still. 

“Harry?” Louis ventured across the living room into the open office area where Harry usually worked. 

The computer screen was black and the clock ticked on the wall ominously.

“Harry, you in here, love? ‘Ve got bananas!” Louis called, walking into the kitchen to grab a banana from the full grocery bags he’d set on the counter.

He set off towards the bedroom, wondering if Harry had decided to take a nap. 

And the poor banana, that poor banana didn’t know what was coming, which was being dropped onto the hardwood floor of their bedroom. In Louis’ defense, he hadn’t known what was coming either. 

And that was the sight of Harry, face buried in a pillow, back arched so deep it looked painful, and arse filled up with his favorite blue dildo, hips fucking back onto it as he maneuvered it in and out with his hand. 

The small thud of the banana and Louis’ choked out curse startled Harry enough that he craned his neck to look behind him. Louis guessed his neck and shoulder were burning with how they were awkwardly baring his body’s weight in that position.

“Daddy,” Harry slurred, voice deep, and Louis’ cock gave an interested twitch in his jeans. 

Harry stared at him, eyes glazed over and hidden behind wild locks that fell over his face in disarray. He wondered how long Harry had been pleasuring himself, how long he’d kept himself in that position.

He noted that his movements were slow, edging himself, which brought a small smirk to Louis’ lips. He knew that was one of Harry’s favorite things.

His cock was an angry red shade, the tip leaking precome, and he could see a damp spot under him where the translucent discharge had dripped continuously.

Harry whimpered and reached his free hand out behind him in Louis’ direction before pulling on one of his arsecheeks. 

And  _ god, _ Louis was just--he felt like whimpering himself. No matter how many times they played, or had sex, seeing Harry so affected and so  _ into it _ would always affect Louis like it was the first time. He remembers when Harry had called him daddy the first time while he was being fucked aggressively into the mattress, arse up just like now. He’d said it in such a small voice, so lost in pleasure it slipped past his lips and it took everything in Louis not to come on the spot. 

Now, though, Louis knew how Harry liked to be treated, them having talked it over numerous times, exploring excitedly but cautiously with each other. He liked feeling like Louis held all the control, liked being used and fucked roughly while being called the sweetest pet names, liked being taken care of. It was like a dream come true to Louis. And this moment, this moment was a fantasy come to life, Harry working himself up, milky skin of his chest and face flushed the darkest of pinks. Louis knew he’d planned this, since he’d told Harry around what time he’d get back. And this was how he had wanted Louis to find him. 

Harry let out a sob, moving his hips in a circle to get some friction because he’d stopped fucking the dildo into himself in favor of focusing completely on Louis’ frozen state. His free hand made a grasping motion, gripping at the air uselessly and then at his arsecheek again, like all he needed to come was to feel Louis behind him. The worst--or best--part was that Louis knew Harry  _ could _ come just from that when he was worked up enough. 

Licking his lips, Louis pulled himself together and immersed himself in the scene, in the privilege he was given to be Harry’s daddy. He shucked his clothes off in record speed, eyes piercing into the dreamy green of Harry’s own gaze. He folded himself over Harry’s arched form, smoothing the curtain of hair away from his face so he could study the beautifully lust hazy state of his face and experience all of his little expressions that were so telling.  “Naughty baby. So eager to have your arse filled that you couldn’t even wait for Daddy’s cock so you used a fake one.”

Harry outright sobbed, wet mouth falling open, brows furrowing, whole body shuddering, fingers digging so hard into his arsecheek that his fingertips turned white. “Oh, Daddy,” a whine, “Daddy,  _ nngh, _ god,  _ please.” _

Jesus Christ, Louis was sure he’d die someday from this. He was sure, at some point, all of Harry’s perfect, sexy little mannerisms and the way he slurred and lost himself in his lust would catch up to Louis, overwhelm him so much he would have no choice but to pass on. 

Harry was heavenly, divine, and Louis was just a man. 

Smoothing a hand over his glistening back, Louis leaned down to rasp into his ear. “Not as good as Daddy’s cock is it, my darling?”

“No, no, never. Nothing is ever,” Harry breathed, but his hand had started making jerky little motions against where Louis’ pelvis was pressed against his arse and Louis knew that he was trying to get away with fucking the toy in and out of himself again. 

Gripping his wrist firmly to put a stop to the movement, Louis bit into Harry’s shoulder blade, licking the skin beneath his flattened tongue and savoring the salty taste of his sweaty skin. Harry let out a small cry, hand gripping onto Louis’ wrist in an awkward angle and Louis smiled into his skin as he grazed his teeth over him. Triggered by Louis’ brazen move and the sting of his teeth, Harry started whining and whimpering unabashedly as Louis pulled the dildo slowly, gently out of him. 

“No, no, Daddy, need to be  _ filled, _ Daddy,  _ please!” _ Harry panted, wrist slipping from Louis’ now loose grip, latching both hands onto the rails of the headboard. 

_ “Christ,” _ Louis hissed as Harry circled his arse sinfully against him, Louis’ bare cock, already bubbling precome, catching on his opened up rim. 

Harry loved the feeling of his hot dick against his arse, feeling how hard he’d made him, reveling in the sensation of being so desired he got Louis worked up just as much as he was with just a few movements. 

Louis kept thinking in the back of his mind that though he was the one who called the shots when they were playing, Harry was really the one with full power. Manipulating Louis by getting so lost in him and his desire to be intimate with him was so dizzying to Louis that he felt like Harry was the one who had the hold on the reins. Louis was merely guiding the situation’s development, knowing he wasn’t powerful enough to tame the hunger Harry had for him and he sure as hell wasn’t in control of his own cravings to have Harry any way he could. 

Harry clumsily flopped onto his back, bitten, raspberry red lips spreading over his teeth gently in a dopey smile as Louis pulled him up by the hair to kiss him. 

Another thing that Louis had noticed, that he hadn’t mentioned to Liam, was the difference in Harry’s kisses over the past few weeks. When they snogged, Harry had seemed to lose all graceful finesse, taking what he could of Louis--his air, the spit in his mouth, the taste that resided on his tongue--in ravenous movements. It was nothing new, but now it was like Harry didn't know of any other way to kiss him. 

Louis tried to follow his feverish movements, tongue flicking and gliding against Harry’s as he fucked in and out of Louis’ mouth. He was letting out these cut off little moans and whimpers, a high pitched whine breaking through the glorious cacophony of sounds every time Louis gripped the damp hairs at the back of his neck and tugged sharply, keeping him in check, a reminder that  _ Louis _ was the one in charge.  

At this point, Harry had climbed atop Louis’ thick spread thighs, and had started rutting against Louis. Feeling a twinge of amusement and fondness as Harry murmured things to himself like, “yeah, that’s good, feels good” and “Daddy, love your cock” and, lastly, so quiet Louis almost missed it, “ _ oh _ —no, can’t come now” as if he had to remind himself out loud to hold off on giving in to his impending orgasm. Times like these was when Louis knew that Harry was getting so desperate his brain turned to mush and whatever thoughts were in his brain would spill out through his lips. Louis  _ adored _ him. 

“What’d ya need, my love?” Louis cooed into Harry’s ear, inhaling the pungent smell of garden soil, coconut body wash and sweat that the skin just under his ear was soaked with. 

The question seemed to jar Harry from his roaming state of mind, reeling in his thoughts when they had been running free with what he was feeling. His hips stuttered to a stop and Louis’ steady hands resting on his back rose and fell with the deep inhalations and exhalations he was taking. 

“ ‘M gonna…” he mumbled, sliding off his boyfriend’s lap so clumsily that Louis had to tighten his grip to help keep him upright. 

Curiosity rose in Louis, and he’d admit there was some anxiety there, too. He couldn’t be blamed, though, because he was already worried about Harry and his recent, ongoing weird behavior. The fact this wasn’t normally how things would progress wasn’t helping, either. Still, he trusted Harry with his life, so he turned around on the bed, back facing the headboard, to watch as Harry swayed and stumbled over to the closet. Obscured by the door, Louis could only hear rustling and a thump which was followed by a sad little whimper. It made Louis’ heart skip a beat, because he didn’t want Harry hurt or to fall over, but also because anything Harry would do that Louis found remotely cute (which was just about everything), would make his heart speed up with affection. 

Apparently that little reaction was the kickstart to the full on heart attack that Louis felt he was going to have when Harry shyly emerged from behind the closet door. 

His puffy lips were glistening with saliva and so perfectly scarlet, eyes gleaming with desire and blown out so much that Louis couldn’t even detect the green that surrounded his pupil with the distance that was between them. 

But what had Louis positively sweating was the black leather, adorned with fringes on either side, wrapped around Harry’s slender legs, erect shaft trapped and drooling precome right under the belt of Louis’ very own chaps. The bottom of them were a little too short, but that only turned him on more, because those were  _ his _ own chaps, a little worn and still dusty because he hadn’t cleaned them since he wore them last, on Harry’s very sensitive, very naked thighs that still bore traces of Louis’ teeth from last night when he’d eaten him out, the red marks peeking out from where the inside of the chaps dipped down at the top of the legs.

“Oh, now,  _ that _ is a sight, love,” Louis breathed, resisting the urge to pull himself off right then and there to the sight of Harry’s body encased in broken-in leather. 

Harry kept his eyes locked on Louis’ glossed over ones, sharp with need, as he climbed onto the bed, crawling toward Louis with his back arched so his perfect little bum was peeking out, framed by the chaps. Lifting his leg over both of Louis’ own outstretched ones, exaggerating the movement as if he was mounting a horse, he ran his hands through Louis’ hair and cheekily murmured, “You know what they say, Daddy…”

Louis didn’t know what they said. In fact he couldn’t care less about about what they said.  _ They  _ could fuck off, whoever they were. He had a lapful of eager Harry to fuck. 

Distracted from his words by the foreign feel of leather on his bare thighs, Louis smoothed his hands over the chaps, feeling like he was touching them for the first time, as if they weren’t secured around his legs almost every day. Trailing his palms up the sides, brushing through the fringes, his hands cupped Harry’s perky arse, squeezing into it before delivering a swift smack to one cheek.

The reaction was instantaneous and caused Harry to pitch forward, gasping from the unexpected contact. 

“No, I don’t know. But I have a feeling you’re going to tell me,” Louis chuckled, rubbing the globes of Harry’s arse, self indulgently. 

Giggling into his neck where he’d been nipping at Louis’ skin, Harry pulled back to look into Louis’ eyes. Louis was always struck by how green, how vulnerable and yet somehow how unreadable they were. Harry was a mystery that he would dedicate his life to solving. 

Louis had never seen Harry’s eyes looking so sharp and clear during sex.

“ _ They say, _ save a horse, ride a cowboy,” Harry purred, smirking lopsidedly.

Louis couldn’t help the laughter that spilled from his lips, because this was so  _ Harry. _ Leading up to something in the bedroom, solely because he wanted to make some stupid joke that somehow went with the situation. 

_ God, I love you, _ Louis thought, watching in pure adoration as Harry peered at him from under his eyelashes, bottom lip caught between his teeth, curls concealing half his face as they slipped from behind his ear.

“ ‘S that what you’re gonna do? Gonna ride Daddy good? Move your little arse on me dick just like how I told you to ride western?” 

Dirty talk worked just as well as spanking with Harry, spurring him into action. In a frenzy, he’d grabbed the lube and began slicking up the length of Louis’ shaft, rubbing the precome bubbling out of his slit into the wet substance with his thumb, studying Louis’ face with a calculating stare as he hissed in pleasure. 

“For the horses,” Harry murmured, voice pitched low. 

“Mm, so considerate of you,” Louis rasped, chuckling. 

“Gotta save their backs as much as possible,” Harry continued, also keeping up his ministrations to Louis’ very hard, very erect cock, leaning in occasionally to press a kiss against Louis’ pecs. 

The snick-snick sound of Harry’s hand over Louis and both of their harsh breathing filled the room for a minute before Harry started talking again. 

“ ‘Cause, you know, might have little kids riding them at some point in their life.” 

Louis furrowed his brow, staring at Harry until they shut of their own accord in pleasure when Harry laved his tongue over his head, dipping into the slit. 

“Might want to become ranch hands like you and--” Harry cut himself off with a soft cry when Louis, whose eyes were now fixed on Harry’s leather-clad thighs on his own naked ones, slapped him across his arse, trying to return the favor as he wanted his baby to feel good, too.

“And they’ll need good horses to ride, so I gotta save the horses’ backs, you know, ‘cause, um, ‘cause I wouldn’t want them to learn on slow horses,” Harry continued, almost like he was unaffected.

Pulling himself together, ignoring the pull of arousal he felt deep in his stomach, he studied Harry’s face, now so concentrated on Louis’ cock. 

Harry was  _ rambling. _ And he was hiding behind that curtain of disheveled chocolate locks like he was  _ shy.  _ Not to mention, his rambling was making no sense and he seemed to have gone into his head, his hand moving over Louis in a weirdly automatic way. 

That just wouldn’t do. 

Right as Harry was inhaling to begin a new string of run-on sentences, Louis cut him off. 

“Harry,” he demanded. 

Pride and love swelled in his chest when Harry’s eyes zeroed in on him, again, hand releasing Louis. They stared at each other for a few moments, Harry’s chest rising and falling in short breaths, eyes so wide. 

When he seemed to find what he was searching for in Louis’ steady gaze, he broke the silence.

“Want a  _ baby, Lou, _ wanna--wanna ride you and want you to come in me and make a pretty baby who looks just like you. Wanna give you a child and raise them with you. I stopped taking the--the pill which is why I haven’t wanted to have intercourse the past week, didn’t want you to be suspicious if I asked for, like, a condom ‘cause I didn’t want you to get me pregnant without you wanting it too and--and know it’s too early to ask but want a baby  _ so badly, _ oh, _ Lou, _ please, _ please,” _ Harry blurted, words falling from his lips faster than Louis had ever heard. 

Louis felt like he was going to explode with all the emotions he was feeling, hands involuntarily caressing Harry’s love handles as a way to calm his trembling body, putting his boyfriend’s comfort above everything else. 

He put together all the strange things he’d noticed over the past months and stared, slack jawed, at Harry’s pleading face, realization dawning on him that all along, Harry must’ve been trying to figure out how to discuss exactly that with him. 

Oh my god, Harry wanted a baby, wanted  _ his _ baby. 

And, jesus, Louis wanted one, too. 

“Please don’t leave me,” Harry whispered. 

Broken out of his trance by Harry’s words and the realization that his eyes were starting to glisten with forming tears, Louis pulled him down until they were lying horizontal on the bed, Harry secured tightly in Louis’ arms, clutching onto him so tightly, Louis couldn’t breathe properly. He didn’t care. 

_ “Hazza, _ my  _ baby, _ ‘ve been dreaming of making a family with you pretty much since we met, as embarrassing as that is. Baby boy, I couldn’t even think of leaving you, god, love you so much,” Louis cooed, catching how Harry’s breathing grew even more irregular, his hot breaths fanning over the side of his neck, where his face was buried.

He suddenly became aware of how their bare bodies were pressed together, cocks trapped in between their abdomens, Harry’s dick having slipped out from under the belt of the chaps. Hesitantly almost, Harry began moving his hips in little circles, rutting against Louis, letting out tiny moans and whines as their cocks rubbed together. 

“First time I’m making a baby,” Harry said, somewhat nonsensically.

“We’re going to do so much baby-making, you’ll get sick of it,” Louis whispered.

“Oh, Daddy, no, wanna make so many babies with you, gonna love the whole process. Gonna have a whole house full, and they’re gonna be so pretty just like you, Louis,” Harry murmured. 

Louis had swiftly lubed up his fingers, coating them while Harry was talking, and as soon as the last word fell from his lips, Louis pressed two fingers into his hole.

“God, yes,” Louis choked out, overwhelmed with arousal and the idea of having such a beautiful future with Harry, little mini replicas of them running around. 

They both groaned, Harry’s whole body trembling, and Louis loved that he could feel the deep timbre of his voice reverberate through his sweat-slick chest that was pressed up against his own. 

Not wanting to waste time, he worked in a third finger, Harry’s already loosened by the dildo, relishing in the way Harry’s hole clenched and pulled his fingers in, his whole body yearning for it. When Harry let out a little restrained whine, body arching and hips fucking down, Louis knew he found his prostate, the spot easy to find after the way Louis had studied and learned his baby’s body so well. 

“Come on, now, love. Don’t need to keep quiet, want you to be loud, let Daddy know how you’re feeling,” Louis directed, and Harry immediately released the deep, long groan he’d been holding in. 

“That’s it, baby,” he encouraged, allowing himself a few more moments of his fingers buried in Harry’s perfect little arse. 

Harry had been sucking lovebites all over his chest, teeth grazing over his nipples that pulled quiet whines from Louis as he took his fingers out of Harry.

Harry caught his lips in a sloppy kiss, more spit and tongue than anything. “Gonna ride you, now, cowboy. Gonna ride you so good, gonna make you come so hard in my arse,” Harry rasped against Louis’ lips before planting his palm against his sweat-damp chest and rising up. 

Breathing harshly, Louis watched in a daze as Harry lifted up on his knees and reached behind himself to grasp onto Louis and position his head at his clenching hole. He loved having Harry’s weight supported on his chest, and slid his hand so it was directly over his heart, allowing Harry to feel the erratic beat of it. Harry responded by rubbing his thumb over Louis’ golden skin, a touch that was subtle but felt everything but to Louis. 

Harry’s small touches meant just as much as any grand gestures, oftentimes saying things with subtle moves that took Louis’ breath away because of how much love he could convey with them. 

They had kept steady eye contact as Harry rubbed Louis’ head over his opened up rim, but Harry’s eyes closed as he began sinking down, Louis’ girth something that seemed to take his breath away each time. It was difficult for Louis to keep his composure, hands flying to Harry’s hips, thumbs dipping under the belt of the chaps to rub against smooth skin. The worn leather in contrast to the satiny smoothness of Harry’s skin against the pads of his thumbs made Louis shiver. 

When Harry had finally sunk down onto Louis’ cock, balls resting against Louis’ abdomen, he didn’t hesitate to work up a rhythm. 

Louis watched from under half-lidded eyes as Harry began to positively bounce on his cock, his other palm also now resting against Louis’ chest, full balls and heavy dick moving freely in the air with each determined rise and fall motion on Louis’ cock. 

“Daddy, ungh, Lou, feels--feels so-- _ ah!” _ Harry moaned, breath hitching repeatedly as he fucked himself on Louis’ cock. 

“I know, baby, you’re so tight,  _ jesus, _ so sexy, baby. Bouncing on Daddy’s cock with his chaps on, riding like a proper cowboy.”

Harry threw his head back, mouth open as he sucked in air, releasing a deep rumble of a moan that pitched into a whine as Louis thrust up when he fucked down, hitting his spot with one swift try. 

His curls swayed with each enthusiastic movement, neck and chest flushed a precious pink and pecs jerking with each bounce. Louis pinched his nipples, digging his fingernails into them, causing Harry to yelp and clench around Louis, speeding up his movements. Gritting his teeth at the way Harry was tightening around him in a vice-like grip, he let out a shout, cursing to the ceiling as his hips bucked up into Harry, not able to keep his composure. 

Harry fell forward doing his best to keep meeting Louis’ powerful thrusts up, hitting his spot more often than not, the chaps against Louis’ skin creating a more muffled sound than when they were both naked. Louis savored the chafing of the leather rubbing against his legs and could only imagine what the rough rubbing sensation against Harry’s naked thighs was doing to  _ him. _

“Come on then, keep your seat,” Louis commanded, smacking Harry’s clenching arse,  “swivel those little hips of yours, yeah, that’s it, baby, good, _ fuck,” _ Louis shouted, grunting and gasping as Harry increased his efforts. 

His jaw was hanging open, trying to inhale as much air as possible, letting out animalistic groans, eyes squeezing shut and opening repeatedly as pleasure flooded his body and his balls tingled with the urge to come, gaze re-focusing on Louis each time he opened his eyes. 

“Gonna--uhh--gonna make a baby,” Harry cried, slamming himself down hard when Louis paused his upward thrusting. He circled his hips, Louis’ cock hitting him in all the right places. 

“Yeah, yeah we are, baby-love. Gonna ride me right into the mattress, make me come right up into that sweet little arse of yours.” Louis punctuated the last few words by slapping him across his cheeks with both palms and gripping the soft globes of his bum, fingers inching down to feel where his cock was splitting Harry open. 

“Shit, Lou, L-Louis, fuck, fuck, fuck,” Harry panted, his brow furrowing, a few tears sliding down his red face. 

The words drove Harry into action again, working himself up and down Louis’ shaft, loud  _ uh-uh-uh’s  _ falling from his glistening mouth. 

“Look at that, don’t even need a riding crop to get you going, just need me to spank you with me own hands, yeah?”

“Ooohh, Daddy, Daddy, Daddy,” Harry mewled, too fucked out to give an answer. His eyes were wild, glistening with tears as he looked down at Louis and Louis couldn’t really believe his luck in finding this beautiful boy who wanted an actual family with him. Moving slow be damned, he had forever to be with Harry and he wanted to start now.

Those thoughts heated him up further, and he could feel the tell-tale pull of his orgasm in the pit of his stomach, his balls drawing up tight as Harry kept making lewd noises. He was going to come soon.

“Yes, Louis, please, please, come in me, fill my arse up, need your come,” Harry urged, knowing Louis’ expressions well enough to tell when he was going to come. 

Harry’s voice was so ruined, so needy, like if he didn’t have Louis come now, he’d explode or something. That was all it took for him to release into Harry’s clenching arse, fingernails biting into his love handles to keep him still, keep his tight heat encompassing him, his hips thrusting erratically into him as he shouted in pleasure. He struggled to keep his eyes open so he could see the blissful, glorious expression on Harry’s face when he felt Louis’ hot come seeping into him. 

Judging by Harry’s slowing movements, he knew his thighs must be burning, so he wrapped his hand around him, stroking him, fighting through the urge to sink into the mattress after coming so hard he felt dizzy from it. 

Harry arched his back, whole body seizing up, like a bow being pulled back before shooting an arrow forward. Louis dragged his sensitive, leaking head along the rough of the leather belt and Harry slumped forward, forearms shaking as he supported himself on Louis’ firm chest, in reaction to the painful drag, arse clenching impossibly tight around him. His whole face scrunched up in pleasure, not even breathing as he shook with his orgasm, ropes of come shooting up his torso, a tiny ‘oh, Lou’ falling from his lips before he fell over Louis, groaning from exhaustion and the aftershocks of pleasure that moved his hips in tiny jerking motions over Louis.

They both laid there, Louis bearing Harry’s weight, loving that he wasn’t moving, wanting to feel the length of his body against his own. He allowed his eyes to droop closed, burying his nose into the sweaty hair on Harry’s head, his heart swelling as he felt Harry’s heartbeat slowing against his chest, listening to the little sniffles near his ear where Harry’d buried his face into the crook of Louis’ neck. 

Slipping off of Louis’ oversensitive cock, both hissing at the overstimulation, Harry laid alongside Louis, humming as Louis wrapped him in his arms and kissed him slowly, sweetly, each press of soft lips against his face and lips a praise. 

Louis was watching him intently and, when his eyes opened, he smiled gently at him, loving the clear green that stared back at him. When his hand moved in between their bodies to press a calloused palm against the baby soft skin of Harry’s belly, he was rewarded a smile so bright he thought he might be blinded by it. His own face mirrored Harry’s huge grin, both of them understanding what the gesture meant. 

“I love you,” Harry murmured, voice choked up with emotion, eyes glistening with joyful tears. 

Before he could reply, Harry surged forward, pressing his swollen, bitten lips to Louis’ own, licking into his mouth. 

They stayed in bed for a few more minutes like that, sharing oxygen and spit at a lazy pace. Harry tasted like peace, his kisses graceful as they used to be and Louis couldn’t be happier that Harry got his peace of mind back, his body pliant and restful in Louis’ arms. They’d be getting something else along with it.  _ Someone _ else. 

It was when Harry started pouting at the dried come on his skin that Louis pulled himself out of bed, returning with a wet flannel and lotion. 

He cleaned the sweat and come from Harry’s body, murmuring sweet things to his boyfriend. Harry simply stared at him, soft smile never leaving his lips, letting Louis move him this way and that to clean him up thoroughly as he could with the flannel. 

After Louis went to clean himself up quickly, he returned to where Harry was sprawled out on the bed, tracing a finger over his laurel tattoos.  

“They’re gonna frame your baby bump so prettily, darling,” Louis said, pressing a kiss to each one. 

Harry giggled, positively preening with the thought. “They are, aren’t they?”

Louis hummed and helped Harry out of the chaps, being careful not to rub the leather further into his skin. 

Once they were off, Louis spread Harry’s legs, breath catching at the sight of his irritated, chafed skin, marveling at it. He didn’t need Harry to tell him that he’d loved the rough texture and discomfort that comes with having leather against bare skin. “God, ‘m gonna have dreams of you in me chaps for the rest of me life.”

“I already do,” Harry admitted, eyes shy, grin cheeky. 

“Is that so?” Louis quirked an eyebrow at him, smirking smugly. 

“Don’t play coy,” Harry swatted at his forearm with the force of a kitten, “ ‘m not going to tell you your arse looks amazing in them just so you can, like, have your ego inflated.”

“You just did, love,” Louis teased, laughing at Harry’s disgruntled face, arms crossing over his bare nipples, his show of defiance ineffective as he let Louis steeple his legs so he could smooth lotion over his skin. 

“I hope our baby has the same pout as you. Granted, they’ll get away with everything if they do, but I can live with that,” Louis mused. 

“I hope they have the same eyes as you,” Harry mumbled, his own eyes dreamy as he stared at Louis’ concentrated face, focused on rubbing the cold cream into the insides of Harry’s thighs where the chafing was the worst. 

They fell silent as Louis smoothed his hands over Harry’s body, taking longer than necessary because the motions and sensations were cathartic for both of them. 

“Hazza,” Louis broke the silence, once he’d capped the lotion and wrapped Harry up in his arms. 

“Mm?”

“If you ever feel you want or need to talk to me about something, even if it’s big and could change things, please don’t hesitate to tell me what it is, love,” he reassured, smoothing his fingertip over Harry’s features, something he knew made Harry shiver with pleasure. 

“I’m sorry I worried you, Lou. I really am and I promise, from now on, I’ll talk anything over with you. I know I wasn’t being very pleasant, especially when I wouldn’t let you join conversations with my family when you always include me in yours.”

“Don’t be sorry. I just want you to know, I’m here for you. You need privacy with your family, too, so don’t think I always need to be there. I was just confused with the little things that didn’t add up. But it’s all cleared up now and I’m here to stay, alright? Always gonna stay with you, Harry. I love you,” Louis promised, pressing a lingering kiss to Harry’s forehead. 

“I love you, too, Louis. The best boyfriend I could ever ask for,” Harry replied, pecking Louis on the lips. 

“And you’re the best rider I could ever ask for,” Louis grinned, earning another glare and swat on the arm from Harry. 

_ “Heyy,”  _ he whined.  

“Was a compliment. Never came so hard in me life,” Louis chuckled. 

Harry’s cheeks had a light dusting of pink, bottom lip caught between his teeth. “Me either,” he admitted, sheepishly. “I still think you’re just using me for my amazing skills in the bedroom,” he sniffed superiorly, eyes squinting at Louis in mock suspicion. 

Louis snorted, entirely too endeared by his cherub of a boyfriend, scooting down to blow raspberries into Harry’s stomach and closing his eyes to memorize the sound of Harry’s honking laugh, looking forward to the days when his belly would swell, carrying a little person that shared both of their looks and personalities.     

  
  



	11. Eleven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think there'll be about 4 or 5 more chapters after this one and maybe an epilogue. Thanks for reading, hope you enjoy.

(Harry’s POV)

 

“Harry? Love? Y’alright in there, baby?” 

Harry pulled his eyes away from the two red lines that were staring back at him. He looked up at the bathroom mirror, eyes glassy and wide, still in disbelief. 

“Hazza?” Louis’ voice came again from the other side of the door, knuckles rapping against the wood. 

Moving in a daze, Harry opened the door and was met with the sight of a sleep rumpled Louis whose forehead was crinkled with worry, glancing down at the pregnancy test that Harry still held in his fingers.

“Hey, love, it’s okay, alright? We’ll keep trying. It’s only been a few weeks,” Louis soothed, concerned by the tears that were slipping down Harry’s cheeks.

Harry silently led Louis across the small hallway, entering their bedroom and closing the door so as to keep any conversation from floating into the kitchen where the ranch hands were eating. 

“Louis.” Harry said, hand on the door behind him to steady himself.

“Yes, baby?” he replied, thumbs wiping away the tears that wouldn’t stop. 

“Louis, you’re going to be a  _ dad,” _ Harry whispered, smile breaking through his shock and disbelief that something he wanted so badly was happening.

Louis’ face changed from worried to shocked, and Harry started laughing with overwhelming glee when the corners of his lips stretched back to reveal the most brilliant smile Harry had ever seen adorning his boyfriend’s face. 

“Oh my god,” Louis croaked, tears filling his eyes as he pulled Harry into a tight embrace, holding the nape of his neck with one hand. 

Harry buried his nose into his neck as he let the full force of his emotions run through him. He had the beginnings of a child growing inside him, one that was already so loved and wanted by their parents.

They stood there for awhile, neither speaking, both too shocked and overjoyed for words, their bodies trembling against one another with sporadic laughter and sobs, exchanging sloppy kisses.  

Louis finally pulled away, and Harry took his turn to brush away his tears. 

“Wow,” Louis breathed, a giggle following. 

“I know,” Harry laughed, cheeks hurting from smiling so much. 

“Do you want me to ask Liam to work today instead of me?”

“No, it’s okay. When you’re done with work we’ll have a nice evening. I’ll cook something delicious,” he promised, heart warming at Louis’ consideration.

“Maybe you should lay off the cooking. I don’t want you straining yourself. I can make us something, instead,” Louis suggested, concern in his blue eyes. 

Harry rolled his eyes fondly at him. “Lou, I’m not even showing yet. I think I can handle cooking a meal just fine,” he chuckled, thumb rubbing over the crease in Louis’ forehead. 

Louis studied him for a moment, chewing on his lip. “Fine, but just, if you need help at all, please call me. Me cell is always on, even out on the fields.”

“I will, you worry wart. Now, let’s go eat breakfast, shall we, Daddy?” Harry grinned, eyes twinkling with mirth.

It was Louis’ turn to roll his eyes. “God, Harry,” Louis scoffed, shaking his head, his smile betraying him.   

“You love it,” Harry giggled, bumping their noses together. 

“Yeah, love you,” Louis replied, eyes soft, hands intertwining with Harry’s, pulling him into a tender kiss. 

\-------------------------------------------------

(Louis’ POV)

 

It turned out that keeping the fact your boyfriend was pregnant a secret proved to be a lot easier said than done.

Harry was around five weeks along when Harry’s and Louis’ families came to celebrate Louis’ birthday and Christmas at the ranch. It was always so fulfilling when both their families got together. Everyone clicked from the moment they all met each other in person months ago and now they were seamless, knitted together by fate herself, one huge family under a roof. 

After opening his birthday gifts, and after all the food Harry had prepared, that Louis had helped him with, was put away and the dishes were cleared, their family members retired to the vacant ranch hands’ bedrooms, the other lads having gone home to be with their own families. 

Louis had gone out with Harry to say goodnight to the horses and Queen Freddie, who had her own stall now since she was with child, just like Harry. 

“You’re going to have your baby just before ours, aren’t you?” Harry murmured to Queen Freddie, stroking her soft muzzle. 

The cow eyed Harry’s stomach, which showed no bump yet and was hidden under his heavy coat. Her eyes slid over to where Louis stood and Louis could have sworn she narrowed her eyes at him. 

“I think she disapproves of me being the father,” Louis laughed. 

Harry scoffed. “Nonsense! She’s just protective of me. It’s her maternal side coming out,” Harry explained, planting a sweet kiss on her forehead. 

“It’s like she understands what we’re saying. No offense, but that’s always weirded me out a bit.”

Louis burst out laughing at the identical offended look he received from both his boyfriend and the cow. Harry had a hand over his heart, big eyes widened, and Queen Freddie seemed perturbed as well, opting to move away from them and turn her bum to where Louis was standing. 

“Now you’ve done it! Now you’ve really offended her!” Harry exclaimed. 

Louis was red in the face from laughing, trying not to double over. “What,” he giggled, “what did I do first that offended her before this?”

Harry’s mock offended expression melted away, eyes softening and gleaming, lips curved into half a smile. He put his arms around Louis’ neck, their bodies close. 

“The first was making a baby with me,” Harry murmured into Louis’ ear, voice deep and smooth like honey. 

“Mm, I can’t apologize to her Majesty. That was one of me favorite activities to do with you,” Louis chuckled, hand rubbing at the nape of Harry’s neck, scratching and pulling lightly on the baby hairs there, eyes not leaving Harry’s fluttering ones. 

“Careful, you know she rules this ranch with an iron hoof,” Harry chortled. 

“Well, if she’s the queen of the ranch, you’re the king, ruler of everyone’s hearts. ‘Specially mine,” Louis whispered, planting a soft kiss on Harry’s lips. 

“I wouldn’t get anything done if I were a king. I’d spend all my time sitting and admiring you,” Harry said.

“I highly doubt that,” Louis chuckled.

Harry insisted it was true, and lead him over to the haybale where he’d placed Louis’ birthday gift, both sitting down atop it. 

“In fact, I’ve studied you so much, I think I know all your secrets.”

“Is that so?”

“Why don’t you open your gift and find out,” Harry urged, handing Louis a neatly wrapped square box.

Once it was unwrapped and opened, Louis’ whole body froze. Inside a wooden frame, flattened by glass, were sunflowers, their bright color faded and their brown stems brittle under the glass. They were beautiful, even in their faded state, and Harry chuckled when Louis looked at him, slack-jawed. 

“I knew you were the one sending them to me. It didn’t take me very long to catch on that you were the one eating the leftovers. Why do you think I always made so much food and stopped asking who was eating it?”

Louis let out a weird mix between a croak and a squeak. 

“Those are from the first bouquet you ever gave me. I saved them because I loved them so much. Later, after I figured out who my thief was, I thought how perfect it’d be to give a few of them to you as a gift,” Harry further explained. 

Louis felt overwhelmed by his emotions. He was in shock that Harry had found out he was the food thief, was touched deeply by the symbolic meaning that this gift had. He was also embarrassed. 

Louis pulled him into a kiss, flushed cheeks hot in the cold weather. Harry deepened it, and Louis explored his mouth that tasted of rice pudding and hot chocolate with his tongue. A small moan slipped from Louis’ mouth, and Harry cupped his cheek to keep him close, movements slow but filled with passion, teeth grazing over Louis’ bottom lip as he pulled away. 

“I should’ve told you sooner, and I wanted to, but I felt so weird about it and so utterly stupid I’d even done such a thing in the first place. I--”

“Louis, I thought it was funny. If I didn’t, do you think I’d have continued making things that only more than one person could eat. You could’ve just asked me to make you dinner, you know,” Harry said, eyes dancing. 

“Yeah, but I didn’t want you to work more. After all, cooking is exhausting,” Louis said. 

“I figured you’d say that. Which is why I got you this!”

Harry pulled out a smaller, rectangular wrapped gift. Louis opened it, glancing at Harry, unsure. The rectangle was a little booklet of meals Harry knew were his favorite. 

“You can use a coupon whenever you like and I’ll make whatever you’re craving. This way you won’t feel guilty about asking, even though you should know I love cooking. Especially if I’m doing it for you,” Harry explained. 

Louis just sat, feeling dumb and staring at his perfect boy. “I get all this, you as me boyfriend,  _ and  _ you’re carrying our little person,” Louis murmured in awe. “You’re truly the best gift of all, Harry Styles.”

\--------------------------------------------

The pregnancy was all Louis and Harry wanted to talk about. They had started dreaming up a nursery, their conversations always led back to wondering about how their baby would look and what interests they would have, and they’d even started a list of names for their future child. 

They were eager to say the least, and Harry had been so happy after going to their first ultrasound at eight weeks to find out the due date (August 26) that he’d spent the whole evening looking up and writing down new recipes (because he’d felt too tired to actually cook) and crying for an hour, touched after Niall complimented his handwriting as he looked at the recipes he’d written down. 

The next evening, Friday night, all the ranch hands were sitting down to have a meal together, Louis having gone into town to get pizza so as to save Harry from more work than he had to do as he’d been feeling drained, which the doctor had said was normal in the early stages of pregnancy. 

“Alright boys, I’ve got all your orders here,” Louis announced, raising his voice above the chatter in the dining room. 

A chorus of thanks rang around the table, Harry kissing Louis on the cheek once he’d sat down. 

“Honestly, I don’t know how you pack all of that away, lad,” Louis said to Zayn who piled his plate full of slices of his supreme pizza and Liam’s pepperoni and sausage one. ‘If I tried doing that I wouldn’t even be able to get on me horse!” 

“Psh, I call bullshit. You eat just as much as me. Don’t think you’re even capable of putting on weight what with how much exercising you do in bed with Harry,” Zayn teased, smirk glistening with grease from the pizza. 

“Oi! Look who’s talking! It’s a miracle I don’t rib you two about how noisy you get at night!” Louis defended himself.

“Except you do. Like, all the time, mate,” Liam chuckled.

“I love all four of you, but honestly with all the shagging going on in this house I might have to move out to get a good night’s rest,” Niall piped up.

“There’s a loft in the barn you can move into, plenty of quiet there,” Louis cackled.

“Yeah, but I don’t fancy sleeping on a bed you and H fuck on, occasionally,” Niall grimaced.

Louis choked on his pizza. “How’d you know that?” Louis exclaimed, feeling exposed while the other men laughed at Niall’s words with knowing looks. 

“A little birdy named Hennessy told me,” Niall grinned.

“Chickens don’t talk, Neil,” Louis said, trying to change the subject.

“They may not talk, but they can sure look traumatized. You should’ve seen her. The way she ran out of the barn with her wings flapping and her eyes all wide, I thought the bloody barn was on fire,” Niall wheezed. 

“Her eyes are always wide,” Louis protested, overpowered by Niall’s next sentence. 

“Turns out it was just cause of all the raucous that was going on in the loft,” Niall finished, breathless from his laughter. 

“I get you pizza, Nail, and you repay me by exposing me sex life. How disrespectful,” Louis sighed, shaking his head. 

Through the loud chatter and teasing, Louis heard sniffling coming from his right where Harry was seated. Turning to look at Harry, his stomach dropped at the devastated expression on his face, visibly sniffing and bottom lip trembling. 

Louis immediately dropped his pizza, wiping his hands on a napkin before brushing Harry’s curls from his face and tucking the strands behind his ear. 

“S’wrong, baby, hm?”

“L-Lou, they,” he paused to sniffle, “they forgot my tomatoes. My fresh--my fresh tomatoes. The ones that are small and sliced, Louis. They forget ‘em,” he finished, a tear slipping from his eye. 

Louis swiped the tear away promptly, glancing at the open pizza box that held the plain margarita pizza in question, looking barren with no toppings. 

“Hey, Hazza, babe, s’alright. I’m going to fix it, okay?”

“But you can’t fix it when there’s nothing there to fix. It’s not there! They’re not  _ there, _ Louis. It’s just plain pizza! I told you I could handle making pizza, and if I would’ve made it this wouldn’t have happened!” Louis was now fully aware of the silence that had settled over the other men in the room as Harry’s trembling voice rose.

He watched him stumble from his chair and swiftly walk towards their bedroom, the door closing behind him firmly. 

“Be back in a mo’,” Louis excused himself, quickly going to the bedroom. 

Upon entering their room, Louis found Harry curled in on himself on the bed, sniffling loudly. Louis rushed over to where he was sat on the side, pulling Harry’s limp body into him. His heart ached with both affection and sadness at the sight of his trembling pout, lovely green eyes bright with unshed tears. Seeing Harry upset was the absolute worst and most hated sight Louis could possibly witness, even if it was over a pizza topping. Simultaneously, he wondered if Harry knew how breathtaking he looked at all times, wished he could put into words how much he loved this man who was now carrying their baby.

“Harry--” Louis started.

“I ruined dinner. I made it awkward and now everyone will think I’m insane because I cried over bloody  _ tomatoes,” _ Harry sobbed into Louis’ neck as he burrowed into his embrace. 

“None of the boys think you’re insane, okay, baby? And dinner isn’t ruined at all, hasn’t even begun yet, and I know exactly how to fix your pizza. Trust me, I’d get upset too, if they forgot me only topping,” Louis soothed, running his fingers through Harry’s hair, and rubbing his back.

Harry began hiccuping, body jerking against Louis’ and curls tickling his face with each hiccup. Now Louis felt as emotional as Harry, insides swelling with fondness. He kissed Harry’s forehead, smiling down at him as he pulled away slightly and peeked at him with one eye. 

“D’you want to go out? If not, I can bring the pizza in here,” Louis suggested, pulling Harry’s growing locks into a tiny half-bun with a hair binder he kept around his wrist for that specific reason, revealing his flushed pink cheeks.

Harry closed the one eye that was open, leaning his forehead on Louis’ shoulder, breath slowing down and hiccups stopping. 

“Wanna go with you,” Harry replied, eyes opening to look at Louis but drooping, sleepy after the energy it took to cry. 

Louis gave him an encouraging smile and led him back out by the hand. No one questioned them, Zayn and Niall in a serious discussion about whether or not cows felt violated when being milked with Liam interjecting that they felt relieved. 

Louis left Harry in the dining room and zipped to the kitchen, slicing and preparing the tomatoes for Harry, warming them enough so they didn’t taste so raw. When he came back to the dining room, he placed the tomatoes strategically onto Harry’s pizza with tongs. He felt Harry’s eyes burning into him and looked over to see Harry gazing at him, head resting against the back of the chair with sleepy eyes and a private little smile, large hands resting on his stomach. When Louis sat down, Harry cupped his cheek, immediately drawing him into a languid kiss, lips moving slow as molasses against Louis’, his tongue licking out to taste before he pulled away.

Just as he was biting into his pizza, Louis met Liam’s eyes and the other lad gave him a slight nod, a knowing smirk on his face. 

Louis just scrunched his nose, not knowing what to make of his friend’s secret smile, going back to his pizza and priding himself on how Harry was devouring his pizza, doing his happy dance in his seat.

\-------------------------------------------------

On Harry’s birthday, all that Harry wanted to do was to be cuddled by Louis the whole day. Louis had taken the day off and so far they’d talked to Harry’s parents and sister on facetime and watched three romantic comedies back to back, stuffing their faces with food, and having lengthy discussions about the movies and characters after the credits rolled, even though they’d seen the films more times than they could count together. Louis couldn’t help but smile at how endearing Harry was with his long body stretched out over the sofa. He’d sat up from where he’d been spooning Harry during the entirety of the first film and half of the second.

“Oh, Lou, since you’re up, could you get me a few bananas and the Easy Cheese can, please?” Harry requested, sleepy eyes peeking over the mountain of blankets he was buried under.  

“At your service, my king,” Louis replied, bowing with a flourish once he’d removed himself from the cocoon of blankets.

A muffled chortle reached Louis’ ears as he was walking away to retrieve the snacks from the kitchen. 

When Louis brought them back, he handed them to Harry and sat at the end of the couch, pulling his socked feet onto his lap. 

With great fascination, and slight disgust, he watched as Harry sprayed cheese onto his banana, took a bite, and let out a happy moan, immediately spraying another generous blob of cheese onto the beige colored fruit. Louis might be grossed out by his weird cravings had it not been for the rewarding happy sounds he made when they were satisfied.

Laughing to himself at the fact Harry’s attention was mostly focused on his snack and not the dramatic scene playing out on-screen, he pulled off his pink fuzzy socks that had little cow faces on them (ones he had bought for Harry for one of his Christmas gifts), holding onto them with gentle hands when Harry tried wiggling them away. 

“Tickles,” Harry giggled, taking another bite of cheesy banana, 

Louis chuckled, rubbing into the arches of his feet, admiring his toes, how long and delicate they were. At this, Harry groaned, settling deeper into his cocoon of blankets so Louis could only see the mess of curls laying on the pillow that was propped against the arm of the sofa his head was supported on. 

They watched the rest of the film like that, Harry’s sighs and giggles of pleasure floating up into the air periodically as Louis massaged and lightly tickled his feet. Harry had only finished the one banana before he was back to falling in and out of sleep and Louis, after pulling the blankets down enough to see his sweet face, spent the majority of the next movie he popped in simply studying Harry’s soft features, the pronounced pout of his lips, the puffiness of his cheeks that came with him being sleepy. 

When the end credits were rolling, Harry stretched, back popping, and gave Louis a kittenish smile. 

“This has been the best birthday,” he rasped, deep voice unused. 

Louis scoffed. “If you think this is the only thing we’re doing today, you’re very wrong, darling.”

“But this is all I want to do. ‘M happy just being with you,” Harry replied, playing with the fraying ends of one of the blankets. 

Louis surged forward, throwing off the blankets, and laughing at Harry’s surprised squeal as he hovered over him, careful not to press into his torso or stomach. Coming into close proximity with Harry’s beautiful face never failed to take away Louis’ breath. His eyes were wide, staring up at him, and his lips looked so tempting as he licked them subconsciously. Reaching up, he stroked through Louis’ bed head hair that he’d refused to tame when he’d woken up.

“We’re going to have a laid back little celebration with your family and the lads tonight, yeah? They want to celebrate you, too. Nothing big, I promise,” Louis said, placing a gentle kiss on Harry’s lips.

“Okay,” Harry breathed, smile twitching the corners of his lips up, eyes focusing on Louis’ mouth as he leaned up to bring Louis into another kiss. 

He tasted like banana and cheese, and though that should’ve been gross for Louis, he didn’t mind. Harry licked into his mouth, sighing in pleasure and encasing Louis’ strong legs with his own. Pressing his hips down into Harry’s, Louis fell to his forearms to get closer to him, their kiss lazy but wanton. At the friction Louis’ hips were causing, Harry’s hips stuttered up, chubbing up in his joggers. His head fell back against the pillow, eyes fluttering in pleasure. Louis smiled down at him, rutting against him with light pressure, teasing.

He licked at Harry’s collarbones that were jutting out of his loose sleep shirt before biting them, satisfied at the throaty whine that came from Harry. When he slipped a hand under his shirt to push it up, Harry’s stomach jumped, and Louis placed a gentle kiss over his belly button. Harry’s fingers tangled in Louis’ hair again, arching his back up into the kitten licks and pecks Louis was placing all over his stomach. 

“Before any celebrations, though, I’m gonna give you a little b-day bj,” Louis grinned, eyes flicking up to Harry’s, finding them to be darkened, bottom lip still stuck between his teeth as he smiled and rolled his eyes at Louis. 

“Dork.”

Humming, Louis tenderly removed Harry’s joggers and pants, leaving kisses here and there over his soft calves and thighs. He got comfortable between his legs, hand finding it’s place around Harry’s semi. 

“Mm, your dork ” Louis whispered, bringing Harry to full hardness as he stroked him, getting his skin wet with broad strokes of his tongue.

Harry’s clutch on Louis’ hair tightened as he took him into his mouth, paying special attention to where precome was steadily oozing from his slit.

“You’re kind of really too sexy to be a dork,” Harry breathed, dazed with pleasure. 

Louis stroked the sensitive skin on the inside of Harry’s thighs as he took him deeper into his throat, light vibrations of his laughter travelling through Harry’s body and Harry sunk into the soft cushions of the sofa underneath him, a breathless moan leaving his lips. 

Louis always knew what he needed. He knew that Harry needed tenderness as his body was preparing to host a human that would grow quite large in his stomach, knew he needed to be touched in calming ways so he could unwind and only focus on pleasure. 

Louis hummed every time that Harry let out approving noises, quiet whimpers and long sighs, knowing it only turned him on more. He loved the taste of his hot skin on his tongue, the salt in the precome he swallowed, adored how sleepy and satisfied Harry looked, eyes blinking lazily as he watched Louis bob his head over his cock. There was a breathtaking amount of love in his eyes, as well, and in the way he scratched his blunt fingernails over Louis’ scalp in thanks. 

When Harry came, Louis swallowed his load, smacking his lips cheekily as Harry floated back down to earth, causing his pregnant boyfriend to laugh breathlessly. 

He moved up and supported himself on one forearm to hover over Harry, sharing kisses, wanking himself hard and fast, just wanting to lay down with him and fall asleep, Harry’s calm demeanor affecting his own mood. When Harry realized he was about to come, he replaced his hand with his own, stroking him through it, Louis using his unoccupied hand to cup the head, catching the spurts of come that shot out. 

He was just about to leave to clean himself up when Harry took his hand, shoving three fingers coated in come into his mouth and sucking hard, throat visibly bobbing as he swallowed what he sucked off of Louis’ skin. His eyes closed, and Louis didn’t think anyone could look so blissed out licking someone’s come off of their fingers, but this was Harry. And Harry wasn’t like anyone Louis had ever met. He licked the rest of his hand clean and then released it with a happy sigh. 

“Happy birthday to me,” Harry sing-songed, voice and smile far too innocent for what he’d just done. 

Louis was simply kneeling over his boyfriend, frozen in place, jaw slack. “Fuck,  _ baby. _ You’re going to be the death of me.”

Harry’s dimple popped as he smiled wider, looking like the cat that got the cream as he stretched his arms out, inviting Louis to laid down with him. 

“Nap time,” Harry said, burrowing into Louis as he laid down, covering their half-naked bodies with the blankets, and pressing his nose into Harry’s free locks to inhale his fresh scent. 

“Happy birthday to you,” he breathed.

Harry hummed, small snores following not long after and Louis fell asleep right along with him.   

\---------------------------------------------

 

(Harry’s POV)

 

“I’m so excited, I think I might be sick,” Harry whispered to Louis as they followed their doctor, Ava Jones, through the waiting room, holding hands. 

At thirteen weeks, Harry was due for a second ultrasound and both the men were practically jumping out of their skin with anticipation at seeing their baby on a monitor. 

“D’you need to go to the toilet?” Louis asked, giving Harry’s hand an encouraging little squeeze, feeling jittery himself. 

“No,” Harry laughed, “I’m fine, love.”

Harry gave him a reassuring smile, knowing exactly how Louis was feeling. 

Dr. Jones made small talk with them both, them being familiar with each other as they’d come before to get prenatal vitamins and extra information to ensure Harry’s pregnancy would go smoothly. She went through the procedure of rubbing the gel over Harry’s stomach, then placing her wand on his skin where his shirt was pulled up and the machine showed a blurry black and white image. 

When a thumping sound came through the speakers of the machine, Harry squeezed Louis’ hand so tight his own fingers ached, and he could feel his face splitting with a huge grin. He looked over at Louis, his heart stretching in size with the amount of happiness he was feeling as he stared at the awed expression on his boyfriend’s face. Louis looked down at him from where he was sitting on a chair next to where Harry was reclined, eyes wide but soft. 

“Strong heartbeat, that’s for sure,” Dr. Jones said, grinning at the both of them as they let out breathless chuckles. 

If he had the ability to, Harry would’ve frozen that moment and lived in it forever. He felt more connected to their baby than ever before, hearing the strong thumping of their heartbeat. Louis’ tight grip on his own hand was a reminder that this was real, and he’d have Louis with him, making every new moment as good as the last.

Dr. Jones swirled the wand over Harry’s little bump of a stomach that had started to protrude from his pelvis. 

Both Louis and Harry let out audible gasps as they saw a small wiggling form appear on the screen, eyes glued to the monitor to watch every move their baby made. 

“That’s our baby, Haz,” Louis whispered, planting a quiet kiss to Harry’s temple.

Harry’s vision became blurred with happy tears as he watched the little form on the screen press their hands and feet against the wall of Harry’s stomach, then roll into a new position where he and Louis could make out the head and body clearer. 

“Active little one they are,” Dr. Jones laughed.

Harry let out a watery laugh, a few tears slipping from his eyes, Louis’ calloused thumb gently brushing them away. 

“So precious,” Louis murmured against the back of Harry’s hand where his lips were pressed against the warm skin. 

“I’ll be sending you home with pictures so you can choose to show them to people, maybe announce you’re pregnant with them. Your baby is really healthy and however and whenever you decide to announce it, you’re pretty much in the clear with waiting. I can try to see what the sex is now but it might be better to wait a few more weeks, just to be sure it’s accurate. What would you like?” Dr. Jones asked. 

“Wait,” they both replied. 

“We’d rather not go through the extra procedure, and we’re patient,” Louis expounded. 

“Yeah, ‘sides I don’t really care what they turn out to be, I’m just happy I got to see them,” Harry added. 

“Well, whatever sex your baby is, they’re going to be very cute--judging by their parents’ looks, might I add,” Dr. Jones smiled. 

Harry felt like he was glowing with the ball of joy that was warming him from the inside. 

_ Or maybe that’s our baby, _ Harry thought while his smiling lips pressed into Louis’ own grinning ones.   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments, kudos, criticisms are appreciated.


	12. Twelve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fluff and smut and Harry being mischievous with his animals. As usual. 
> 
> Hope you like, thanks for reading.

(Harry’s POV)

 

The announcement that they were having a baby was met with so much surprise, joy, and excitement that both men were overwhelmed. 

Harry had the clever idea of taking a simple, close-up shot of Louis’ hands cupping his, a sunflower seed placed in the center of his own cupped hands for the announcement picture card they’d handed personally to their family and the ranch hands, sending the rest in the mail to extended relatives and far away friends.

The simplicity of it was breathtaking. Louis’ hands, calloused, scarred, and toughened by the hard labor he endured contrasted beautifully with Harry’s own smooth, soft palms.

When he was editing it on the computer, Louis laughed when he saw the print.  _ We’re growing a seedling! Sprouting in August!, _ it read below the shot of their hands. Louis was incredibly endeared with how he was tying everything together.

They’d invited their family over the beginning of March, Harry being fourteen weeks pregnant now, and all the ranch hands were there to join in the festivities as well. With Harry going into his second trimester, his energy had returned, allowing him to cook loads of food, a mini buffet being set up to allow everyone to have their fill. 

Gemma smirked the whole time, like she knew what was coming and sent them both a wink when they’d made the announcement and Lottie shoved her, asking if she’d already known, indignant at being kept out of the loop. Harry had told Louis that he’d been talking to his parents and Gemma about how he wanted a baby in that short time when he wouldn’t allow Louis to speak to them. Once Louis and Harry found out they were expecting, though, Harry had been secretive about anything baby-related, which Louis suspected only made them more suspicious. 

It was comedic to see the knowing expressions on their faces when they announced it together and Harry was in near tears, laughing so hard at how much of a large, bickering family they were becoming when his own family and the ranch hands pestered Harry’s family about why they didn’t look shocked. 

The whole gathering made him feel incredibly blessed. He was in disbelief at how much his life had changed only since last spring. He couldn’t have dreamed up a better world to live in, one so filled with support, love, and friendship, both in human and animal form, he had a hard time knowing what to do with feeling it all pour over him.

Having a baby grow in your stomach was an indescribable feeling that Harry knew he’d miss once the birth came from the moment he felt the little flutters inside his belly of the tiny human that he and Louis had made together. Through the increase of his back aches and the swelling of his feet, Harry not once regretted his decision. On days when he was feeling grumpy with the pain that came with his body adjusting to the growing weight of a baby, Louis was always there to soothe it in some way. He would lay him out on their bed and massage him with sweet smelling oil on his lunch breaks so Harry didn’t go through the whole day uncomfortable. Other times, he’d draw him a bath, gently scraping over Harry’s scalp to massage in shampoo and wash the rest of his body, while Harry closed his itchy eyes and listened to his quiet singing. 

Louis and him often talked in the early mornings--snuggled up in blankets, voices thick with sleep--about how lucky they were, and Harry frequently fell asleep with Louis’ fingers intertwined with his or rubbing over his small, but growing belly before he left to work in the frigid air outside. On days off, with Harry’s energy back, they spent the rest of the mornings tangled up in each other, soaking their sheets with the scent of sex before eating and bundling up, feeding the chickens, and grooming Queen together, noses the color of cherries and smiles frozen on their faces.

It was all that Harry ever wanted and more. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------

When they found out the gender of their baby in the middle of April at twenty weeks, Harry squealed so loud he startled himself and Louis flapped his hands in excitement so wildly he slapped himself in the face. When they told the lads, Niall squealed loud enough to rival Harry. When they told their families the screams were piercing enough to have Louis putting a hand on Harry’s belly and telling everyone off for probably shocking the baby with the volume of their cheering. 

When they went to the store to pick out things for the nursery sudden bursts of giggles would erupt from both of them spontaneously as they walked through aisles of nursery room items and baby clothes. 

They were having a girl. A lovely baby girl. And the excitement came from the fact that their baby was big enough that they could tell the sex, which meant the due date was nearing. 

Louis had gotten the lads to help him clear out his old room weeks ago, demanding that Harry stay where he was watching them, perched atop a chair with Dusty in his arms and Clifford at his feet, hand rubbing his belly (which he did incessantly), telling him his only job was to keep looking adorable. Harry blushed everytime Louis fussed over his health, the concerned lines in Louis’ forehead proof of how much he cared about both Harry and the baby’s well-being. 

Now, though, Harry was standing in the midst of the room staring at the color squares he’d just taped to the walls, hand rubbing his belly as the baby fluttered inside him. 

“I just don’t know Hennessy. I quite like the yellow. It’s very bright and cheery. But the soft green is so pretty,” Harry murmured. 

Hennessy clucked back and hopped off the baby goat named Lady Britney Gaga Spears that Harry had led into the house to help make a decision, only to leave the room, her chicken feet scraping against the hardwood floors as she made her way down the hall into some other room. 

“Well, that’s not any help!” Harry cried out, indignant that his very own feathered child would leave him so carelessly in his time of need. 

“You two better not leave me or, so help me god, I’ll--umm--I’ll...I’ll not give you treats for a week. This is serious business!” Harry declared, stomping his foot against the floor, addressing the baby goat and the miniature horse Louis had bought him for his birthday. 

Lady Britney stayed stock still, blinking back at him with wide eyes while Stevie Joan Jett Nicks the mini horse snorted and stamped her little hoof back. 

“Ok, I didn’t really mean a whole week, that’s cruel, you’re right, sorry. But no treats for a whole two days. No negotiations,” Harry said, resolute in his decision as the two small animals stared up at him.

Silence followed and Harry took it as agreement from them, turning back to look at the walls. 

“So, carrying on, we also have to consider the pink color. Oo, and what shades and if we want to mix the colors, because we could do that and get the best of both worlds, but it might look bad. This is so bloody difficult.” Harry’s shoulders slumped. 

“Alright, Harry?” 

Harry turned towards the door to see Jack standing in the doorway. The waiter from the bar was here more frequently to work now that Louis was taking more time to focus on Harry and baby things.

Harry pouted. “I’m trying to pick the nursery colors, but these two aren’t any help, and Hennessy ran out to do god knows what.”

Jack’s eyes flitted at the white and brown colored goat and the cream colored mini who were now moving through the room, bored with having to stand in one place for so long. He didn’t say a word, already knowing Harry allowed some of his barn animal pets to walk around the house since he’d walked in on Harry reorganizing his file cabinet several weeks ago with a few chickens clucking and waltzing through the office and living room. Jack had been sworn to secrecy because Louis had banned farm animals from their house already. 

“Anyway, what’re you doing here?”

“Oh, Niall forgot his gloves. I swear, he can be so forgetful sometimes,” Jack chuckled, rolling his eyes. 

Harry raised his eyebrow, trying to keep his cheeky smile in check. “Mm, what a gentleman you are, fetching him his things. He must love you for that.”

“Yeah,” Jack grinned, eyes far away as he smiled at the ground. Harry almost laughed when he looked up, face full of panic. “I mean, I just, you know. We got off on the wrong foot, um, kind of, ‘cause of Niall hating that one group picture I took a while ago, and ‘m just trying to be a good co-worker, you know. So,” Jack huffed, face beet red. 

“Oh, I see. Well, what a helpful co-worker you are, then,” Harry nodded, knowing smile on his face. 

“Good luck with your, um, jury,” Jack said in farewell, looking like he wanted nothing more than to leave, hand gesturing to Lady Britney who was chewing on Harry’s joggers and Stevie Joan who was trying to look out the window that was too high for her.

“Thank you,” Harry said. 

Jack smiled awkwardly and began to leave. 

“Oh, and Jack,” Harry called just as Jack disappeared. 

His head popped back in sight. 

“The way to Niall’s heart is through political discussion and golf,” Harry revealed. 

Jack looked equal parts embarrassed and relieved. “Thanks a mil, Harry.”

Harry winked at him before he left. 

“Stop that now, Lady Britney. I told you already that you can’t chew on things in the house, it’ll upset your stomach,” Harry scolded the little goat, pulling the material of his joggers from where they were clenched in between her teeth. 

A nicker sounded from under the window and Harry frowned at Stevie Joan. “Stop laughing at me! And stop trying to look out the window you’ll break your neck, baby!” 

When he heard the front door open and close, his neck snapped up. Louis was home, he realized with alarm. 

Swearing under his breath, he rushed to get a blanket from where it was lying on a plastic wrapped rocking chair that hadn’t been taken out of it’s packaging yet. He was just in the middle of trying to get the two stout animals together in hopes he could hide them under a blanket when Louis’ footsteps banged down the hall. 

“Who’re you talking to, Hazza?” Louis said, voice gentle before a shriek rang out once he came through the doorway. 

Harry looked up, freezing with his finger trapped in Lady Britney’s mouth, a habit Harry couldn’t get her to kick, Stevie Joan slipping out from under the blanket he’d haphazardly thrown over them.

“Harry?” Louis cried, voice high in pitch. “I thought we agreed we shouldn’t have any farm animals in the house! They could leave a mess behind. I mean, they’re _ farm animals, _ after all.” 

“But I needed opinions on the colors, Lou,” Harry argued, making his eyes big and innocent. 

Louis crossed his arms over his chest, and it took everything in Harry to not laugh and keep the innocent expression on his face as Lady Britney waltzed out of the room, shoving past Louis. Louis watched as she left the room and pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh.

“You have  _ me _ to help you with that,” he countered, looking at Harry again. 

“But you were gone and I was  _ lonely,” _ Harry protested, feet pointing inwards, looking at Louis through his eyelashes. 

When Louis opened his mouth to speak next, a crash came from one of the ranch hands’ bedrooms and Hennessy came skittering down the hall behind Louis, squawking loudly. 

“Hennessy!” Louis yelped, turning swiftly to catch the bird as Harry dissolved into a fit of giggles. 

“You’re not even sorry!” Louis accused, pointing at Harry as he clutched the chicken under his arm, her wings flapping, Louis’ frown slipping to reveal a smile. “You’re not even sorry, cheeky boy, look at you. Probably bring in these animals all the time!” Louis’ voice held no anger, bursts of laughter escaping him now, giving up on trying to keep a stern composure.

Harry was bent over, hiccuping with giggles when Louis walked up to him and pulled him into a kiss.

“When I’m not around you replace me with farm animals, is that it?” Louis asked between kisses, laughter escaping both their lips. “What kind of loyalty is that, Hazza?”

Louis pulled away to let Hennessy run free. Harry pulled him back into another kiss, Louis’ tongue sliding smoothly through the open seam of his lips. 

He moaned when Louis’ teeth sunk into his earlobe, sucking before he pulled away to whisper hotly in his ear. “You get away with everything. Our baby girl’s gonna be spoiled rotten, just like you.”

Louis’ palm brushed over his groin in a teasing touch. Harry whimpered high in his throat, becoming hard so fast he felt dizzy. 

“Spoil me rotten, daddy,” Harry said, hands fisting in Louis’ hair.

He didn’t know if he was pleading or agreeing with what Louis was saying, but he knew he needed Louis’ touch. His libido had been out of control the past few weeks, pregnancy hormones making him insatiable.

“Always. Always do, always will, know I can’t resist you, baby.” 

Louis led Harry from the nursery, Harry’s hands under his shirt, gripping the soft curve of Louis’ hips from behind as he followed him.

Louis didn’t take any time in situating them on the bed, yanking Harry’s clothes off. The feeling of being under Louis’ total control made Harry feel safe and so insanely desperate. He wanted more, more, more, always more of Louis’ hands, lips, cock on him and in him.

Once Louis was satisfied with the swollen state of Harry’s lips, he stopped biting and sucking on them only to nip his way down Harry’s neck. Harry’s leg kicked out when Louis wrapped his lips around his nipple. Being pregnant had made the area even more sensitive than before, heightening the pleasure that Louis gave him with each pull of his teeth and lick of his tongue. 

After Harry relentlessly tugged on his shirt, Louis finally slipped off his abused nipple, earning Harry a playful smile as he tore it off. His mouth watered at the expanse of bare skin that was revealed to him, one hand reaching up to feel the faint ridges of muscle on his abdomen, the other reaching down to wrap around his own dick. 

“No touching,” Louis scolded, pulling Harry’s hands away from himself and Harry’s own cock, the smile on his face contrasting with the steady firmness of his voice. 

Harry’s face scrunched with frustration and arousal, a pout emerging on his lips as he arched on the bed, hands tangling in his own hair and tugging. The pain pricking on his scalp from it only made him more wired, and a pitiful huff left his lips as he tried to rut up into the denim of Louis’ jeans. That kind of rough friction on his bare shaft might be uncomfortable but it didn’t compare to the ache he felt in his balls from the neglect to his dick that Louis was causing him. 

“God, you’re gorgeous,” Louis murmured, Harry watching him from under his eyelashes as he marveled at the growing bulge of Harry’s stomach. “All full of my baby, turning yourself on ‘cause you love the pain so much.”

_ “Louis,” _ Harry pleaded, voice strained as he tugged on his hair again, not knowing what else to do with his hands, cock twitching at the words spilling from Louis’ mouth. 

“That’s daddy to you,” Louis said, the hands that were rubbing soothing circles into his belly traveling up to pinch on Harry’s nipples.

Harry’s heart was hammering in his chest and he reached to grip onto Louis’ forearms, needing an anchor, something to dig his fingernails in. 

“No touching, naughty boy,” Louis repeated, fondness seeping in to warm the tone of the command and Harry’s hands flew to grip the rails of the headboard like Louis’ skin had burned him. 

“ ‘M not naughty,” he protested, gulping as he heaved air into his lungs, Louis’ thumbnails digging into his nipples sending shocks of arousal to his groin.

“Oh, no? You were touching me just a second ago when you knew to wait.”

Harry was squirming under Louis’ merciless fingers. He didn’t need to look down from where his head was thrown back to know that his nipples were a bright red, swollen just like his lips.  

“Thought you were going to spoil me. You’re not touching me, daddy,” Harry protested, rutting up into Louis’ tented jeans. 

“I  _ am _ touching you,” Louis said, a smile in his tone.

Harry was nearing tears now, angry that he wasn’t being given the attention he needed. And Louis was just hovering over him, faint smile on his lips, not even fazed, looking as calm as ever. 

He let out a sob when Louis leaned down to lick a hot stripe across his pecs, the saliva on his tongue burning his already overheated nipples. 

“N-not  _ there,” _ Harry choked out. 

Louis’ mouth left his chest, and Harry felt a finger tilting his chin down to get him to open his eyes. When he opened them to see Louis face to face, a tear slipped out. Louis’ eyes were always so soft, even when he was teasing Harry like now, or when their play got more rough. They were always so open, gazing at him like he needed to see what Harry’s own eyes held for him, like it gave him his ability to breathe.

“What’s your color?”

“Green,” Harry breathed, “very green.”

Louis’ lips twitched up at the corners, satisfied in knowing for sure that Harry wanted this. Harry appreciated how much more cautious Louis had gotten when more heavy kinks came into play while they were having sex, conscious of the stress it might have on Harry, his safety and now the baby’s safety always coming first.

The moment of tranquility was broken as Louis’ nimble fingers wrapped around Harry’s cock, the skin now so soaked with precome that the drag wasn’t painful. His eyes closed, lips falling open in a silent scream as pleasure coursed through his limbs like a drug. 

“Is this where you wanted me to touch you?” Louis rasped onto his lips, while Harry let out sobs, the speed at which Louis was jerking him almost too much.

“Or was it here?” 

Louis’ hand flew down to pet at Harry’s hole, and Harry let out a loud sob, despair filling his body as the intense pleasure of Louis’ hand jerking him was taken away so suddenly. When he felt gentle fingers brushing his tears from his cheeks, he opened his eyes, finding Louis to still be staring at him, studying him. 

“Daddy,” he slurred, voice rough and dry. 

“I’ll always spoil you in the end. You’re just so pretty when you’re gagging for it, can’t help teasing you,” Louis murmured, coaxing Harry’s lips into a kiss. 

Responding to his lips, Harry was wriggling his hips, trying to fuck down into the faint pressure that Louis was putting on his hole as they kissed. In a flash, Louis pulled away, moving down his body and sending Harry a smirk, eyes dark and glinting before he dove down to nip at his arsehole. 

“Oh, shit,” Harry cried, Louis’ hot tongue dragging over his puckered rim. 

He felt puffs of air hit his perineum as Louis wiggled his tongue into him, muffled sounds of laughter floating up to his ears. His eyes rolled back at the sensation of Louis licking him open eagerly, relentlessly. He loved that Louis didn’t lose that playful attitude, not even when he was Daddy and Harry was a pile of useless, excited mush. 

It didn’t take long for Harry to lose control, his need to hear Louis tell him he could come the thread he was hanging onto. He was fucking Louis’ face now, hips pushing down into the soft heat of Louis’ tongue and the hard jabs of his fingers inside him. It was when Louis sucked and grazed his teeth lightly against the skin around his hole that Harry felt it coming, his body trembling with the telltale signs that he was going to come. 

“There we go, baby, that’s it,” Louis murmured, peering at Harry from where he was laid out on the bed, fingers buried in his arse and his other hand jerking furiously on his own cock. 

That’s all that it took for Harry to come undone, feeling like he was shattering with the force of his release, choking on his own sounds of pleasure. 

Louis wrapped his lips around his cock before he was even done coming, and Harry bit so hard into his lip he was afraid he’d break skin, whole body jerking from the overstimulation, breathless with the sensation of his orgasm being drawn out. 

Louis was kneeling up now, licking over Harry’s cock, keeping the attention on Harry even after his tremors stopped and he whined from being so thoroughly worked over, cock feeling sore where Louis was licking it. He brushed through Louis’ hair with an affectionate hand, watching him from under heavy eyelids as he moaned, collecting the come on Harry’s stomach with his tongue and swallowing.

“Daddy,” Harry breathed, watching in rapt fascination as Louis’ lips fell open in pleasure at the name. 

Louis brought himself to orgasm, fucking into his hand, Harry pulling his legs up so that his come would land on his arse cheeks, marking him. Louis’ cut off moans and choked sounds of pleasure were Harry’s favorite sound and the sight of his eyes squeezed shut, his brows furrowed, face wet with his own spit from licking Harry out was one that Harry loved having etched behind his eyelids. 

Louis fed Harry his come at his sleepy request for it afterwards and he cleaned them up with a flannel. They curled up together under the sheets, Louis bathing Harry in kisses and praises that made his toes curl.

“I think I’d quite like a soft yellow for the nursery,” Harry murmured, eyelids drooping. 

“See, you didn’t need to bring the animals in to make up your mind,” Louis mumbled into Harry’s hair from where he was spooning him from behind. 

“No,” Harry agreed, a few moments of silence passing before he added, “just needed to bring you to bed.”

Louis snorted, pinching Harry’s overly sensitive nipple, pressing a smiling kiss into the nape of his neck. 

A crash was heard from down the hall and they both froze. 

“Shit. The animals,” Louis mumbled, getting out of bed to shoo the animals from the house. 

Harry fell asleep with a smug smile on his face.

\-----------------------------------------------------------

Sighing in pure bliss, Harry leaned his head back, using Louis’ shoulder as his pillow, eyes closing at the soothing strokes of the flannel that Louis was brushing over his body as they soaked in a bubble bath.

It had been a long day for the both of them and he was feeling exhausted from the interrupted sleep he was getting the past few days. It seemed that every half hour he needed to relieve himself and then when he got back into bed it was a struggle to find a comfortable position. 

Having a bigger belly made him lose breath quicker, and it was harder for him to do simple tasks as the baby was gradually taking up more room in his stomach.

Tracing the stretch marks that had spread out over the taut skin of his belly, he sighed again, remembering how flawless his skin used to look. 

Louis brought him out of his head with a kiss to his temple, stubble he hadn’t shaved in a couple days a comforting scratch against his skin. 

“You’re beautiful, Harry. So incredibly beautiful,” Louis murmured. 

His hand traced the lines with Harry and he felt the warmth of affection seep into his skin, serving as a silencer to his negative thoughts. 

“Even with all my marks? Even now that I’m starting to look all big?” he asked, needing that extra reassurance, anxiety still lingering. 

Louis craned his neck down to look him in the eye, Harry settling his head farther back on his shoulder to make it easier to make eye contact. He blinked lazily as Louis slid his damp curls back from his face, tracing his jaw with a whisper soft touch. 

“You’re carrying our very own baby girl in that stomach. It’s magical to see that happening before my eyes. I love how your belly’s growing. Shows me what a good job we’re doing,  _ you’re _ doing, at keeping her healthy so she can grow fully. And your marks? They’re gorgeous, too. I mean, your body is stretching to accommodate the baby, all on it’s own. And you have these beautiful faint patterns to show for it. It’s so fucking pretty, Harry. All of you so fucking pretty.” Louis whispered the last words, eyes leaving Harry’s not once. 

Harry reached up, fingers cupping Louis’ face, stubble rubbing against his soft palms, and sealed their lips together. Louis hummed as they savored each other for a few minutes, drawing back and reconnecting with lazy sucks on each other’s lips.

When they settled back again, Harry wiggled back into Louis’ torso to get closer to his warmth as the water started to cool. He smiled as Louis started to sing in his ear quietly, the raspy quality of his voice making Harry want to curl into him. 

“...my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are grey--”

_ Kick. _

“Oh my god!”

_ Kick. _

“Oh my  _ god!” _

_ Poke. _

Louis sat up straighter, breathing quick as he pressed his hands more firmly to Harry’s stomach. Harry giggled, eyes filling with happy tears as Louis gasped at each little jab and poke that was pressing into his stomach from the inside. 

She always got more active at night, another reason Harry had trouble falling asleep, but this was the first time that Louis was able to feel the movements that Harry had been feeling for months now. 

“Took you long enough, baby girl,” Louis said to their baby, voice soaked in awe, tears slipping down his cheeks. “Twenty-five weeks to be exact,” he laughed through his wonder.

Harry was watching him, grin splitting his face, hands rubbing up and down Louis’ forearms as he kept his own hands pressed to Harry’s belly.

A few moments passed, and a frown formed on Louis’ face. 

“Not feeling her anymore?” 

“No,” he answered in a small voice. 

“Sing again,” Harry urged. 

“Think she’ll respond to that?” Louis asked, concern in his eyes.

“She always responds to your singing, Lou.”

Harry could feel Louis’ heart beating faster against his chest where his back was pressed against it, and his body rose and fell with the deep breath Louis took. 

He sang the song again, hands trembling slightly on Harry’s stomach.

When Louis’ face broke into the most beautiful smile, Harry became breathless, his own heart stuttering at the sight of his boyfriend getting so overwhelmed over feeling their baby respond to him again. 

“I’m going to be a dad, oh my god,” Louis croaked, tears falling quicker now as the baby pressed up towards his hand in a prolonged touch. 

“And the best one at that,” Harry said, wiping his tears away before they dripped into the lukewarm bathwater. 

When they toweled themselves off and slipped into bed, Louis spent a half an hour singing right to Harry’s belly. As the baby kept moving, Louis’ eyes shone up at Harry in the moonlight that flooded through the windows with excitement, love, and awe. Harry’s eyes mirrored the same emotions back to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I appreciate any and all comments, kudos, criticisms
> 
> url on tumblr: andtheywerebandmates


	13. Thirteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's a short chapter, but the next one is longer and hopefully the last few chapters will be posted within the next few weeks. We're nearing the end of this story and I'm getting emotional.

(Harry’s POV)

Harry’s eyes blinked open slowly, body shuffling subconsciously toward Louis’ side of the bed in search of warmth.

Only he couldn’t find it, and his hand flew out to the side to slide over cold sheets, the blanket thrown aside. His stomach bottomed out when he turned his head to be met with the sight of an empty bed, save for Dusty and Clifford curled up in each other at the end of it. 

At twenty-seven weeks, Harry felt especially clingy at night, needing Louis around more and more, despite the fact his due date was relatively far away. 

_ Probably went for a wee, _ he thought, soothing himself by rubbing over his protruding belly, the soft cotton of the pale pink nightgown his sister had given him for his birthday a comforting sensation on his skin. 

However, when he waited a few minutes and Louis hadn’t come back, he looked at the clock, panic beginning to inch its way into his veins. The house was too quiet, no snoring coming from Niall’s room, he noted as he made his way into the hallway, seeing the clock on his side table read two-fifty a.m. 

The lights were on in the kitchen and the boys’ boots were all gone from the entryway, coats missing as well. When he looked out the window and saw that the light was on through the windows in the barn walls and the side door, he zipped his jacket up around his big belly and stuffed his socked feet into his rubber paddock boots, marching with determination and anxiety towards the barn because there was only one thing that would draw all the boys out at this time in the morning.

Queen Freddie was having her baby.

Harry shivered as he neared the barn, though he didn’t know if it was from nerves or from the chill of the cold, late May morning. 

Niall spotted him first as he stumbled down the aisle of the barn, sleep making him unsteady. The older lad rushed towards him, Liam speaking quickly on the phone farther away, brows furrowed and eyes averted as he paced, Zayn’s and Louis’ voices wafting through the air from Queen Freddie’s stall. 

“Mate, Louis’ gonna have an aneurysm if he sees you out here,” Niall said, voice hushed, hands gripping Harry’s shoulders to keep him in place.

“Why?”

“Just--just can you go back to the house? We’ll be in soon, I’m sure.”

Harry took in the poorly concealed fear in Niall’s smile and eyes and knew something was wrong. 

“Why the fuck hasn’t the bloody vet gotten here? What’s taking so long?” Came Louis’ distraught voice.

“Louis, calm down, you’re not helping,” came the voice of Zayn.

“Harry--”

Harry ignored Niall’s plea, rushing (waddling quickly) down the aisle and letting himself into Queen Freddie’s spacious stall before anyone could stop him. 

“Harry!” Louis exclaimed, alarm in his eyes as he took in the state of his sleep-muddled, pregnant boyfriend. “Harry, you shouldn’t be in here.”

“She’s my best friend, Lou, there’s no way you’re getting me out of here.”

“Please, for the baby’s sake, will you leave? Queen’s delivery isn’t going well and this is way too much stress for you,” Louis asked, voice going soft, eyes big and concerned. 

Harry knew Louis was overreacting, it was in his protective nature to worry too much. Their baby was healthy, though, and Harry had a knack for staying calm, even in stressful situations.

At that moment, Queen Freddie let out a sad sound, her coat sweaty and her sides heaving with labored breaths.

“Can we please concentrate?” Zayn asked, irritatedly, from where he was trying to guide the calf out of Queen Freddie. 

“Harry,” Louis said, voice wavering between pleading and demanding. 

“Can’t do much without you helping, Louis,” Zayn urged, sending Louis a glare, sweat on his brow. 

Louis was still locked into eye contact with Harry. 

Harry shuffled to Queen Freddie’s head and curled his legs underneath himself, heaving her head onto his lap. He shook his head at Louis. “Not leaving her.”

“Vet’s not gonna be able to get here in time, got a flat tire, but she told me what to do,” Liam announced, pocketing his cell. This sprung Louis into action. 

Liam began listing off instructions, and it became apparent to Harry that the calf had gotten it’s umbilical cord wrapped around its neck, but the instructions became white noise in Harry’s ears as he gazed into Queen Freddie’s eye, her nose nudging into his large baby bump. His eyes filled with tears as he remembered the day she came into his world and he stroked her cheek, whispering encouragements. 

He leaned down, the soft fur of her ear tickling his lips as he said, “Please, just be brave for my baby girl. She needs a cow friend just as much as I did when you arrived. And I still need you, so you gotta make it through this, can’t lose you or your baby. We’re in this together, Queen Freddie Stevie Mercury Wonder.”

When he pulled away, he traced the outline of her flaring nostrils, not breaking their steadfast, trusting gaze. 

“Calf’s unstuck! Got her free!” Louis announced, panting. 

“Come on, you can do it now,” Harry encouraged.

With a few great heaves that shook her whole body, Queen Freddie pushed her newborn calf out, the boys helping guide her out, fluids and blood surrounding the hooved animal as she emerged.

Zayn and Louis had done most of the work, but all five of them were breathless and gasping as they stood back to watch the calf break out of her amniotic sac. Harry was breathless from the energy it took to stand up, even with Niall’s help who beat Louis to it. 

Standing there and watching as Queen Freddie got up to lick her baby clean made Harry feel like he was transported back to her own birth. His heart swelled with pride at how adorable the newborn female calf was, all black coat with a small spot of white over one side of her muzzle, nose wet and legs shaky as she tried to stand. 

Encouragingly, Queen Freddie nudged her with her nose. The calf tried many times before she got it, and it seemed all the boys had fallen under a spell as they watched her finally steady herself on her spindly legs. 

“That’s our girl,” Harry whispered, eyes shining. 

“She looks like you when you try to get up, now,” Niall said, in a hushed voice, not wanting to break the quiet too much. 

Harry glared at Niall, lips pouting, as Liam and Zayn chuckled.

“S’quite cute, Harry,” Niall insisted, raising his hands in surrender, an innocent smile on his face. 

“Stop with your jokes about me boy, man,” Louis protested, reaching behind Harry from the other side of him to flick at Niall’s head. 

Harry loved that this was what his life consisted of. A baby in his belly, early morning calf birthings, and ridiculous, non-stop banter. Others might’ve found it annoying, but Harry had gotten used to their noise and constant bickering and witnessing something so precious as a newborn calf and her mother meeting for the first time wouldn’t be the same without it. It was the spice of his life.  

When the calf finally found her mother’s udders, Louis murmured, “So, what’ll be her name?”

Harry chewed on his lip for a few moments, pondering. 

“Princess Hozier,” he replied, a smile spreading over his face.

“That’s cute, Hazza,” Louis said, hand rubbing at his lower back. “Queen Freddie has a princess now to rule over the barnyard with her.”

The other lads all murmured their agreements. 

As they watched the newborn calf suckle milk from her mother, Harry leaned his head on Louis’ shoulder, eyes drooping. 

“Alright, time to get you inside, yeah. Naughty boy. Tried not to wake you, but you woke up on your own and came out here anyway,” Louis tisked, fondly.

“Yeah, but I helped,” Harry defended himself. 

“You did, love, that you did.” Louis nodded, leading Harry out of the stall, hand on his lower back. 

“You going to keep an eye on them, right, Ni?” 

“As planned, boss man,” Niall replied, doing a mock salute. 

“Perfect. ‘Night, lads,” Louis waved back to them. 

They all said goodnight, Zayn and Liam trailing behind Louis and Harry as Niall got situated on the cot outside of the stall they’d set up for when the birth would happen to prevent anything bad from occuring to the new arrival afterwards. 

Harry and Louis fell right back to sleep once they’d shed their coats and switched into fresh pyjamas, energy depleted from the strenuous birth. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------

The next morning, Harry was up with the rest of the boys, dishing steaming porridge into their bowls and placing the apples he’d sliced on top in little triangles, too tired to make anything more elaborate. 

The lads were always grateful whenever he took the time to cook for them, which had become less frequent over time with the baby growing and taking more of his energy now more than ever. 

After breakfast, Harry followed the boys out to the barn, watching them all get their horses ready and admiring Louis’ natural way with Rogue, his soft nature coming out when he was interacting with the horse, hands soothing over his neck and back throughout the process of tacking him up. 

“Please be careful, Harry,” Louis said before mounting up. 

“I will, babe, I promise. I’ll just be hanging with my new friend. I gotta get acquainted with her, you know.”

Louis smiled. “I know. Don’t bother with the chickens, I already took care of them,” he said, before kissing his cheek tenderly followed with another peck to his forehead. 

“Jesus, Lou, you’re going to be the most annoying helicopter parent if you’re this much of a worry wart around your own boyfriend,” Niall commented.

“You’d be the same way if Jack was pregnant.” Louis rolled his eyes, shaking his head at Harry, sharing his exasperation with his ranch hands without saying a word. 

Harry giggled, pinching his bum after he turned and mounted up, delighting in the surprised yelp he got in return. 

“That makes no sense, Jack’s not even my  _ boyfriend,” _ Niall said, while Louis glared down at the shit-eating grin Harry was sporting on his face.

Louis recovered quickly to reply, “Oh, that’s right, you’re fiancees already, right?” 

“He’s not my--”

“Look, Niall, here comes your lovely, very tardy fiancee now,” Liam said, nudging his friend’s shoulder before he urged his horse to walk out of the barn after Louis, who was a few paces ahead. 

Sure enough, Jack had just pulled up to the barn in his car, rushing out from it and making his way over. 

Niall was a sputtering mess of denial, cheeks flaming and face indignant. Harry had to cover his mouth to stifle his laughter.  

“Boys, sorry I’m late! Niall, I’ve got the tickets for the golf tournament tomorrow! I’m buzzin’, mate,” Jack said, rushing through the doors to get to his horse. 

“So…” Zayn started once he was out of earshot, the only one remaining after Liam and Louis had ridden out of the stable. 

“Don’t fucking say it,” Niall warned. 

“...when’s the wedding?” Zayn smirked, eyebrow quirked. 

“You’re no longer my favorite,” Niall sniffed, dramatically. 

“Sorry, bro,” Zayn said, shrugging, tone implying he wasn’t sorry in the least. 

“Thought I was your favorite!” Harry gasped, placing his fingers over his lips in mock shock.

“None of you are my favorite, I hate you all,” Niall groaned. Jack had lead his horse to the cross ties at this point, within earshot of their conversation. His head snapped up and Niall looked at him pointedly, saying, “‘cept for you, you I don’t hate.”

“We know,” Zayn said, riding out of the barn and smiling smugly back at Niall as he urged his horse to follow after. 

Harry laughed as he heard Niall’s fading voice threaten, “I’m going to kill one of you. I’ve spent enough time out in the field around horses and cows to make it look like an accident!”

“God, they’re a handful,” Jack chuckled, shaking his head. 

Harry nodded. “They  _ are _ a lot.”

“It’s what makes them so fun, though.”

“Innit,” Harry replied, turning to let himself into the stall the cow mother and daughter had been moved to. It was a run-in stall attached to a paddock so Queen Freddie could stretch her legs and the calf could get accustomed to the outdoors in a more contained space. It was easier to keep an eye on them where they were for now. 

“How is it with you and Niall, by the way,” Harry inquired, fiddling with his camera, acting as if he wasn’t digging for juicy information to gossip about with Louis.

The topic of when and how Niall and Jack would start officially dating was a hot one when Louis and Harry caught each other up about their days at night. 

Jack slowed his frantic grooming, eager to catch up with the lads, but hands now frozen at Harry’s words. He coughed and resumed his grooming. “Well. Uh, yeah, it’s... It’s going good. The advice--your advice, about Niall, I mean, um, was really helpful.”

“Taking him out on a date, then, are you?” Harry pried. 

“S’not a date,” he mumbled.

“But you want it to be, right?” 

“Well, yeah, but I don’t wanna scare him off. He doesn’t seem exactly...aware of my intentions.”

Harry laughed. “Niall’s a lot more intuitive and aware than most people give him credit for. I think he’s just waiting to see if you’ll be more upfront about your intentions, more direct.”

“Be more direct,” Jack mumbled to himself, throwing the saddle pad over his horse’s back. “I really should pay you for the advice you give me, Harry, thank you.”

Harry waved off his words with a smile and excused himself to go photograph the new arrival, eager to show Louis new photos. 

After a half an hour of watching the calf interact with nature and her mother and interacting with her himself, Harry began taking pictures. His favorite was when Princess Hozier had shoved her nose into the lens, wet nostrils blowing out hot air. It was a hilarious photo and Harry giggled as he decided it would hang proudly in the baby’s nursery that had been finished. Princess Hozier was gentle and curious, and a little weird, and Harry couldn’t think of a better addition to his farm family. The baby must’ve agreed because when the calf pressed her nose to Harry’s belly, she kicked a couple times.

Harry felt it in his bones that they’d be the best of friends.  

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wish I had a baby cow :'(


End file.
